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LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 


PRINCETON, N. J. 


PURCHASED BY THE 
MRS, ROBERT LENOX KENNEDY CHURCH HISTORY FUND. 


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E2537 .G74 1925 
Cunninghame Graham, R. B. 
1852-1936 
A Brazilian mystic 


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A BRAZILIAN MYSTIC 


BEING THE LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 
ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 


Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2022 with funding from 
Princeton Theological Seminary Library 


https://archive.org/details/brazilianmysticb0Ocunn_0 


A 
BRAZILIAN MYSTIC 


BEING 
THE LIFE AND-MIRACLES OF 


ANTONIO “CONSELHEIRO 


BY 


R. B. CUNNINGHAME GRAHAM 


‘‘ Adeus, campo, 6 adeus matto 
Adeus, casa onde morsi ! 
Ja’ que é forgoso partir 
Algum dia te verei!’’ 
Brazilian Rhyme. 


Lincoln MacUVeagb 
THE DIAL PRESS INCORPORATED 
NEW YORK - MCMXXV 





Printed in Great Britain by 
BILLING & Sons, Lrp., GUILDFORD AND ESHER, 


TO 


MY VALUED FRIEND 


DON JOSE MARIA BRACERAS 





PREFACE 


SOME years ago, when he was President, after having 
read some tales of mine about the Gauchos, the 
late Colonel Roosevelt wrote a letter tome. In it he 
said: “What you and Hudson have done for South 
America, many have done for our frontiersmen in 
Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. Others have 
written of the Mexican frontiersmen, and written well 
about them. No one, as far as I know,” so he said, 
“has touched the subject of the frontiersmen of 
Brazil. Why don’t you do it? for you have been 
there, know them, and speak their lingo. The field 
is open to you.” 

I was duly flattered and turned the question over 
in my mind; then forgot all about it. Things of 
importance, such as going out to dinner and endeavour- 
ing to arrive neither too early nor too late, but just 
exactly to descend before the door at the right moment 
—that is to say two or three minutes before eight— 
came in between the Brazilian frontiersman and my 
memory, as they are apt to do in civilised sociéty. 
The years went by, with each one certifying his 
fellow that had passed, in blameless endeavour, such 
as that I have described. 

Then came the war, and on my passage out to 
Uruguay, I found myself one morning entering the 


harbour of Bahia, on the Brazilian coast. The sea was 
Vil 


Vill PREFACE 


oily; ‘‘ Portuguese men-of-war” hoisted their fairy 
little sails, and as the vessel slowed down to half speed, 
passing the ruinous old fort at the entrance of the 
bay, backed by a grove of coco-palms looking like 
ostrich feathers, she put up shoals of flying fish that 
swept along the surface of the waves, just as a flock of 
swallows sweep across a field. 

The red-roofed city, with its spires and convents, 
its tall old houses, those in the lower part reaching up 
almost to the foundations of the houses on the cliff, 
was unrolled, as it were, in a gigantic cinematograph 
as the ship steamed into the bay. Eight or ten 
German vessels were interned and rode at anchor, 
blistering inthesun. Fleets of the curious catamarans, 
known as jangadas in Brazil, were making out to sea. 
Their occupants sat upon a little stool, on the three 
logs that constitute the embarkation, with feet almost 
awash, whilst the white-pointed little sails gave the 
jangadas an air of copying the nautiluses. 

Myriads of islands dotted the surface of the vast 
inlet, the houses on them painted sky-blue and pink 
or a pale yellow colour. So fair the scene was 
from the vessel’s deck, it seemed that one had come 
into a land so peaceful that it was quite impossible 
there could exist in it evil or malice, hatred and envy, 
or any of the vices or the crimes that curse humanity. 
One understood the feelings of the apostles when they 
wished to build their tabernacles ; only the difficulty of 
finding an Elias or a Moses worth while to build a 
shanty for, restrained one from incontinently taking 
up some land and starting in to build. 

I stood still gazing, when a voice beside me broke 


PREFACE ix 


the spell, bringing me back again to reality, or the 
illusion of reality that we delude ourselves is life. 

“Friend Don Roberto,” said the voice, “ what 
things have happened in Bahia! and that not long ago. 
Scarcely two hundred miles from where we stand 
took place the rising of Antonio Conselheiro, the last 
of the Gnostics, who defied all the Brazilian forces for 
a year or so, and was eventually slain with all his 
followers. The episode took place not more than five- 
and-twenty years ago; you ought to read and then to 
write about it, for it was made by Providence on 
purpose for you, and is well fitted to your pen.” 

I turned and saw my friend Braceras standing by my 
side, dressed in immaculate white duck. He wore 
a jipi-japa hat, that must have cost him at the least a 
hundred dollars. His small and well-arched feet, 
encased in neat buckskin shoes, showed him a Spaniard 
of the Spaniards from old Castile, just where it 
borders on Vizcaya, and the race is purest of the pure. 
He had the easy manners and the complete immunity 
from self-preoccupation that makes a man the equal 
of a king, and just as much at home with fishermen, 
with cattle-drovers, or any other class of men, as if he 
were one of them. His hands were nervous, and his 
blue-black hair was just beginning to turn grey, whilst 
his dark eyes, his bushy eyebrows, and his closely- 
shaven face, gave him the look of an ecclesiastic, 
though not of those whose function is but to say Mass 
and eat his dinner, as the old adage goes. The name 
of Conselheiro was known to me but vaguely, although 
I knew religious movements had been continuous in 
Brazil since the discovery. I listened to the story, and, 


x PREFACE 


when we landed at the capital, bought books about it, 
bought more in Santos, and as I read and mused upon 
the tale, the letter from the President came back into 
my mind. 

The events all happened in the wild region known 
as the Sertao,* lying between the States of Pernambuco 
and Bahia, unknown, I take it, geographically, to 
ninety-nine per cent. of educated men. 

The followers of Antonio Conselheiro were, almost 
to a man, what are known as Jaguncos, a term 
invented for the most prominent of the cattle men who 
live in the Sertao, and signifying something between a 
bully and a fighting-cock, and by degrees applied to 
all of them, as the term Gaucho is in Argentina, 
Guaso in Chile, and Llanero in the vast, grassy plains 
upon the Orinoco, to the same class of man. ’Tis 
true they did not live upon a frontier, except the ever- 
shifting barrier between the old world and the new, or 
that which just as constantly is changing its position 
and its course, betwixt our modern life and medievalism. 
Still, these are frontiers just as well marked indeed as 
those that arbitrarily separate two countries—in fact, 
are really better far defined. As I read on about the 
semi-Gnostic and his adventures of the spirit, and 
the adventurous lives his followers led, although they 
too, or most of them, were deeply tinged with either 
superstition or religion—for who shall say where the 
one ends and his twin brother starts >—lI felt Braceras 

* Sertdéo may be translated “ highlands,’’ though that does not 
entirely give the sense of the word, which infers what we call ‘* back- 
lying” in Scotland. It is a high plateau, covered with scrub. 


The mark over the “a,” called “til” in Portuguese, gives 
a nasal sound, almost as if the word were written “ Sertawn,” 


PREFACE x1 


had been right in what he said about the subject, and 
of the interest it contained. 

The life in the material sense was simple: but in its 
background there was evidence of faith of a peculiar 
kind, tinged with fanaticism. ‘Their faith, as often 
happens, but little influenced their daily lives, which 
were passed in the open air on horseback, herding 
their cattle, dressed in their deerskin clothes. 

As I wrote of it, looking at the drops of moisture 
coursing down the window-panes (for it was autumn 
in the north when I began to write), I used to wonder 
if the sun was shining in Brazil, as I remembered it, 
for I could see the sodden stooks of corn out in the 
fields, with the rain falling on them, and on the ships 
in the strait, fairway channel as they crept up and 
down the Clyde. 

Although Antonio Conselheiro had paid the 
penalty of his credulity or faith, I felt the wild 
life in the Sertaéo was going on as usual, and the 
vaqueiros were galloping about, with their long, iron- 
shod cattle-goads sloped forward, just as of old the 
men of Annandale carried their rusty spears. 

I fancied I could see them land upon their feet like 
cats, when a horse fell with them, just as once, long ago 
in Entre Rios, I saw a man fall suddenly and come 
off running, unharmed, although his horse had its 
neck dislocated. A pity, too, because the horse, a 
little “‘ gateado,” if I remember rightly, was one that 
you could turn upon a hide in Gaucho phrase; and 
for the man—your damned bronchitis took him off, 
and he died slovenly, within a month or two. 

This kind of book is bound to find its way, and 


Xi PREFACE 


shortly, to an old bookstall, there to be sold with other 
bargains for a penny, after the fashion of the sparrows 
in the Holy Scriptures, for it treats of unfamiliar 
people and of a life unknown and unsuspected by the 
general. It is no matter, for he who writes a book 
writes for his own peculiar pleasure, and if he does 
not, he had better far abstain from writing, for that 
which pleases not the writer of the work can scarce 
please anybody. 

If it is fated that my account of the Jagunco mystic 
should lie rotting in the rain upon a stall, so be it, for 
so it was decreed; though it were better fitting it 
should cockle in the sun and shrivel up, just as a dead 
body shrivels up in the dry air of the Sertdo. 

Shrivel or rot, it is all one to me. Just as the 
strugele is the thing worth struggling for and the 
result a secondary affair, so is the writing of a book 
what matters to the writer of it, for he has had his 
fight. 

If it but please himself he has his public and his 
reward assured, in regions where the rain cannot 
offend him, and where the fiercest sun that ever blazed 
upon the sand is tempered pleasantly. 


R. B. CUNNINGHAME GRAHAM. 


ARDOCH, I919. 


A BRAZILIAN MYSTIC 


BEING THE LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 
ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 


INTRODUCTION 


Wuar is called the Sertaéo* of the Brazilian provinces 
of Pernambuco and Bahia is one of the most curious 
regions of South America. It is also one of the least 
known to the outside world. 

Life goes on there much as it has gone on for the 
last three hundred years. The people mostly are 
engaged in cattle farming, and live on horseback. 
They dress in leather, on account of the dense scrub ; 
their daily lives are hard and perilous; religion 
occupies a chief place in their minds. 

The two provinces of Bahia and Pernambuco meet 
in the vague region of the Sertdo, an elevated plateau 
between two thousand and three thousand feet in 
height, backed by more or less pronounced ranges of 
mountains or of hills, whose distance from the coast 
rarely exceeds two hundred or two hundred and fifty 
miles. This plateau has a climate and a flora of its 
own, the former ranging from great extremes of heat 
to a considerable degree of cold, taking into considera- 
tion the latitude in which it lies. 

* Sertéo is a word hardly possible to translate except by a peri- 


phrasis. It means “ wooded, back-lying highlands,” 
I 


2 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


The flora chiefly consists of thorny trees and plants, 
known in Brazil as “ caatinga,” a Tupi word signifying 
“‘ bush or scrub.” 

The country gradually rises from the coast to the 
plateau of the Sertado, and the climate, vegetation, and 
soil of it are all widely different from those of the 
littoral districts. 

All these conditions, together with the isolation 
in which they have lived for three hundred years, 
have left their impress on the population, making them 
a race apart—a race of centaurs, deeply imbued with 
fanaticism, strong, honest, revengeful, primitive, and 
refractory to modern ideas and life to an extraordinary 
degree. Their existence centres, and has always done 
so, round their cattle, for the Sertdo is little fitted for 
most kinds of agriculture. The arid nature of the 
soil, the long-continued droughts, the extraordinary 
difference of the temperature between the day and 
night, all tend to make the Sertanejos (z.e., the inhabi- 
tants of the Sertéo) a people set apart from all the 
world. Their ancestors, when they left Portugal, 
had just emerged from their long contest with the 
Moors. To them, religion was not a faith only, but a 
mark of race—a rallying-point, a war-cry, and a bond 
uniting them to one another, in a way difficult for 
modern men to understand. With us religion is 
a personal thing ; we take it, according to our indi- 
vidual temperament, in many differing ways. Some, 
not the highest minds, look on it as a sort of mumbo- 
jumbo whereby to save their souls. Others, again, 
regard it as a means whereby life is ennobled, death’s 
terrors exorcised, and the world improved. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 3 


The Portuguese, when they set out to colonise 
Brazil, I fancy, looked at religion chiefly from the 
point of view of nationality. If you were a true 
Portuguese, white on all four sides, as ran the saying, 
you were a Christian. You could not be otherwise, 
for Jews and Moors and other infidel were all the 
enemies, both of the true faith and of your native land. 
Although the Portuguese held the same iron faith as 
did the Spaniards of those times, yet in their nature 
there was a vein of almost northern mysticism—a 
belief in fairies, spirits of the night and of the moun- 
tain, a fear of werwolves, and a sort of sentimentalism, 
especially to be observed in the two northern provinces, 
in which the Celtic strain of blood was most pre- 
dominant. Thus were the people, both by descent 
and by their isolated life, especially susceptible to wild 
religious creeds, and were, in fact, in point of faith, 
mental equipment, and religious temperament, not 
very much unlike some of the Gnostic sects in Asia 
Minor in the first and second centuries. In the 
fashion of the Gnostic sects, the people of the Sertio 
looked to no central authority. Their parish priest, to 
them, was Pope, Council, and Father of the Church. 
There might be greater, or as great, authorities in 
what they called “as terras grandes” (z.¢., the great or 
foreign lands); but they looked on them just as one 
looks on death, as something terrible and vague, 
although not imminent. 

These kind of folk, so to speak, culminated in 
the State of Bahia, for it is there that they have 
always manifested their most peculiar traits. The 
territory is immense, bounded on the north by 


4 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


the province of Sergipe del Rey and Pernambuco, 
on the south by Porto Seguro and Minas Geraes, 
on the west by Pernambuco, from which the Rio Sao 
Francisco separates it, and on the east by the Atlantic 
Ocean. It lies entirely in the tropics, from 10° to 16° 
south latitude, and is about three hundred and fifty 
miles in length by about two hundred and forty broad. 

Such a vast extent of territory has given room 
for the inhabitants of the Sertao to form a world 
entirely of their own. 

Brazil, at the time of the conquest, was divided into 
captaincies (capitanias), great tracts of land having been 
given to men styled “ donatories.”” The first event in 
the history of the State of Bahia is the shipwreck 
of Diogo Alvarez Correa, a man destined to play 
a curious réle in the new land to which his ship 
was bound. No certainty exists as to the date, 
except a passage in Herrera, one of the historians 
of the Indies, in which he says, speaking of the 
shipwreck of two Spanish vessels that left San Lucar 
de Barrameda, in September, 1534, and were wrecked 
on the Brazilian coast in 1635: ‘‘ Here they found a 
Portuguese who said that there were five-and-twenty 
years he had been amongst the Indians.”* 

This Portuguese, one Diogo Alvarez Correa, had by 
the time that he was found, after his long residence 
amongst the Indians, become a man of note. His 
name amongst them was Caramaru, which is in- 
terpreted “the man of fire”— a title that he had 
acquired by having brought a gun ashore with him. 


* “ Onde hallaron un Portuguez que dixo que avia veyente y cinco 
afios que estaua entre los Indios.” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 5 


Henderson, in his “ History of Brazil,’* says that in 
his time (1821) a man still living at Port Seguro had 
in his possession an .old manuscript which affirms that 
Gaspar de Lemos, one of the first discoverers of Brazil, 
upon a voyage back to Portugal, entered the River 
Ilheos, near Bahia, landed, and was suddenly attacked 
by Indians. Correa, one of his crew, had no time to 
re-embark, and thus remained amongst the savages. 
As he had married many times and oft, amongst the 
Indians, and spoke their language, he was a valuable 
man to find. 

In the wrecked Spanish vessel came the first 
donatory, one Francisco Peyreya Coutinho, a person- 
age of rank. Coutinho was a Portuguese fidalgo+— 
7e., a nobleman who had but recently returned from 
India, where he had served with honour and rendered 
important services to the State. The King, Don 
John III., having divided all Brazil into capitanias, 
granted Coutinho all the country lying between the 
point of Padrao, now known as San Antonio and the 
River San Francisco, together with the Reconcava of 
Bahia—~.e., the greater part of the extensive bay. 

This gentleman fitted out his expedition after 
the fashion of the times. As his first action was, after 
having run up a stockade, to build a church, quite 
evidently he understood the full force of the proverb, 
«Pray to God, but strike home with the mace.” + His 
expedition comprised a chaplain, what in those days 
were known as reformed—ze., retired—soldiers, and 


* Henderson, “ History of Brazil,” London, 1821, p. 310. 
t Fidalgo—literally “a son of somebody, or of something.” 
+ A Dios rogando, y con la maza dando, 


6 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


many men of wealth. Brazil being a tropical country, 
and the Portuguese never having held the Spanish 
views upon the ignominy of commerce, and being less 
set on finding gold mines, and on the whole far less 
ferocious in their desire to save the souls of the poor 
Indians, nearly all the donatories embarked in sugar 
planting. Coutinho did the same, and all seemed 
flourishing for several years. They built a chapel 
on the site, where now stands the hermitage of Our 
Lady of the Victories. 

Negroes were unprocurable, as the slave trade in 
Brazil only began in 1574. 

The climate made field labour for white men 
almost impossible, although the Portuguese did not 
look down upon all manual toil, after the Spanish way. 
Still, labour was essential for their sugar fields, so they 
began to make the Indians slaves. No race of men 
in all the world was less inclined to sit down quietly in 
a slavish state than were the Indians of Brazil. Thus 
war was certain from the first, though the first settlers 
never understood the race. One thing is to the credit 
of the Portuguese: they seem to have made no pre- 
tence about the glory of the Lord as did the Spaniards, 
in like circumstances. So when they made a man a 
slave they did not trouble overmuch about his soul. 

Still, they were not entirely free from the ideas that 
influenced their age, and always took a good store of 
priests and friars with them to all their conquests— 
perhaps as a precaution, or perhaps from habit, or 
because it was enjoined upon them by their Govern- 
ment. In all the conquests of Brazil the Jesuits took 
a considerable share. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 7 


Vincente Moreira, Treasurer to Our Lord the 
King of Portugal, in a report he makes to Mem de Sa, 
Governor of Brazil, laments that a chief of the Indians, 
whom he calls Wry-Mouth (Boca Torta), refused to give 
up eating human flesh, so that the Government was 
forced to march against him and burn his village, and 
after burning it, and killing many of the enemy, ordered 
the Jesuit father to build a church wherein mass could 
be said, the doctrine taught, with reading, writing, and 
other good customs.”* 

Still, the Portuguese seem to have kept their 
punitive expeditions, as we should call them nowadays, 
and their endeavours to introduce “ good customs 
and a knowledge of their faith, apart from one 
another. We never read, in Brazil at least, of a single 
instance of a conqueror who, as Cortes in Mexico, was 
even more eager than the priests to bring the Indian 
flock into the fold. The usual treatment of the 
natives by Coutinho and his followers was bound to 
bring the usual results. The Indians broke into revolt, 
Most of the territory now comprised in the State of 
Bahia was at that time inhabited by a tribe of Indians 
called Tupinambas, } a fierce and war-like tribe. They 
spread at one time over nearly all the coastal districts 
of Brazil. Their language was nearly allied to 
Guarani, as spoken by the Paraguayans to-day.{ Their 


* «KF leer e escrever e outras boas costumes.”—Vincente 
Monteiro Tezoureiro del Rey Nosso senhor, in a report to Mem de 
Sa, Governor of Brazil, in the “ Documentos relativos a Mem de Sa,” 
published in the “ Annaes da Bibliotheca Nacional, do Rio de Janeiro,” 
vol. xxvii, p. 194. 

t These Indians were a branch of the great Tupi race. 

t Guarani and Tupi are closely allied tongues, and in general 
nearly all the place-names in that vast territory are in these languages. 


8 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


place-names are almost identical. Anyone with a 
smattering of Guarani can make out most of the place- 
names in the province of Bahia, apart from those in 
Portuguese, given by the conquerors. The Tupi- 
nambas seem to have been fiercer and more warlike 
than the Guaranis of Paraguay. Above all things, 
they were hardy and enduring to an extraordinary 
degree. These qualities they have transmitted to the 
Sertanejos of Bahia, most of whom have a tinge of 
Indian blood. The Tupinambas, or, to be accurate, the 
Tupiniquin Indians, most probably a branch of the 
more well-known tribe, soon grew sick of continued 
work; and the very probable injustices they had to 
suffer at the hands of Coutinho and his colonists, 
especially, we may suppose, the forced introduction of 
“ood customs,” always so disagreeable both to the 
Indian and the white man alike, drove them into 
revolt. They carried on for six or seven years a long- 
drawn-out warfare with the intruders on their lands. 
This warfare had all the well-known characteristics 
of colonial wars. The Indians attacked by night, and 
burned the sugar factories. ‘They cut off small bodies 
of the Portuguese, whom they surprised. No doubt, 
now and then, they massacred the settlers; at any rate, 
they made the colony untenable. Coutinho had to 








Early in the history of Brazil, and perhaps even before the conquest, 
Tupi became the general means of communication. It is now much 
mixed with Portuguese—for instance, as to numerals, for the Tupis 
only counted up to five, 

It is “ A Lingoa Geral” (the General Language), and it is supposed 
was so used by the varying tribes from remote ages. It runs from 
the southern part of the Orinoco to Paraguay and the Argentine 
province of Corrientes. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 9 


re-embark with all his men, taking with him Correa 
as interpreter. Driven ashore by a violent gale, not far 
from the entrance to the harbour of Bahia, they were 
attacked, slaughtered and eaten, for the tribe into 
whose hands they fell were cannibals. Correa- 
Caramart escaped, owing to his knowledge of the 
Indian tongue. 

Eventually, by way of matrimony, often continued 
and well thought out, we may suppose, as regards the 
rank and circumstances of his brides’ families, he 
became a prince. His offspring, the Jesuit Vascon- 
cellos,* who wrote his life, informs us, were numerous, 
and it is said that many families of Bahia still trace 
their ancestry to the “ man with the gun.” 

Caramaru—Correa’s head wife, the daughter of an 
Indian chief, baptised'as Donna Catharina—sleeps in 
the suburb of Victoria, in the Church of Our Lady of 
Grace. She accompanied her husband to Europe, 
where he must have been as much at sea after so many 
years of Indian life as she was herself. Her baptism | 
took place in Paris. At it she relinquished her 
Indian name of Paraguassu, and took that of the 
Queen of France. 

This Indian lady, worthy to be placed beside 
Pocahontas in the roll of fame, has the following 
epitaph upon her tomb: “ This is the sepulchre+ of 
Donna Catharina Alvarez, Lady of this Captaincy of 

* This author did not write till one hundred and fifty years after 
Caramarti’s death, but I see no reason to doubt his word or his facts. 

+ “Sepultura de Dona Catharina Alvarez, Senhora desta Capitania 
da Bahia, a qual ella, a seu marido Diogo Alvarez Correa, natural de 


Vianna, deram uos Senhores Reys de Portugal, fez, e deu esta Capella 
ao Patriarca St. Bento, Anno de 1582.”’ 


10 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 
Bahia, which she and her husband, Diogo Alvarez 


Correa, a native of Vianna, gave to the Kings of Por- 
tugal, and built and gave this chapel to the Patriarch 
St. Bento, in the year 1582.” 

None of Correa’s other wives left epitaphs. 

He himself lived to a ripe old age, and in the year 
1549 he welcomed Thome de Sousa, the new Captain- 
General, and lodged him and _ his followers in his 
village, whilst a new settlement, now the City of 
Bahia, was being built. 

Donna Catharina’s Indian name, Paraguassu, is that 
of the river near which she was born. Her husband’s 
birthplace is a delightful little town in Portugal, in 
the province of the Minho, not very far from Spain. 
It stands, the houses clustering round the beautiful, 
flamboyant Igreja Matriz, a mine of old-world and 
arcaded streets, all paved with cobble stones. The 
River Lima, which the Roman soldiers took for 
Lethe, washes its walls.* Although Correa had 
drunk its waters in his childhood, he found those of 
the Paraguassi more potent, and laid his bones far 
from the river of his youth. 

Diogo Correa-Caramart and Paraguasst-Catharina 
were thus the originators of the race that was to have 
so large a share in the destiny, not only of Bahia, but 
of all Brazil. The Indians that the Portuguese found 
living upon the land were no less hardy and warlike 
than themselves. 


* Lucius Junius Brutus had to plunge into it, carrying his standard, 
to induce his soldiers to cross it. “The poet Diogo Bernardes says : 


“ Junto do Lima, claro e fresco rio 
Que Lethe se chamou antiguamente.” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO II 


The first cross—z.e., the cross between the white and 
Indian—is known throughout Brazil as a “ Mestigo,” 
—ie., a half-breed. The introduction of the negro 
brought another cross and opened the way to a be- 
wildering number of half and quarter breeds between 
the different races of Indians, negroes, and the whites. 

These in Brazil go under many names, not very 
easy to keep apart and to distinguish by the foreigner. 
Though the colours blend into one another, the in- 
finite variety of gradations tends to bring about one or 
two separate types. As a general rule, it may be said 
that the Mulatto, the cross between the negro and the 
white, presents a typt of man, strong, bulky, and 
robust, but indolent and unprogressive, with a strong 
tendency to religious fervour. This type is generally 
to be found in the coast districts and rarely penetrates 
to the Sertao. 

The Mamaluco, called also Curiboca, is the half- 
breed between the white and Indian. 

Lastly, the Cafuz is the result of interbreeding 
between the negro and the Indian, generally the 
Indian of the Tupi race. 

The names of Curiboca and Mamaluco are of 
Indian origin, and are derived from Tupi words: in 
the first instance, ‘“‘ Curiboc ” (7.e., proceeding from 
the white), and in the second, “ Mamaluco,” from 
“mama” to mix and “rucca” to draw. All these 
strange names are further complicated by the term 
“*Caboclo,” generally used of Indians who have attained 
to some degree of civilisation, but often merely 
to designate a rustic, country fellow. 

All these three divisions have bred and interbred, 


12 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


and keep on doing so; but in the long run the white 
blood generally prevails. ‘The Mamaluco and Cafuz 
are seldom seen upon the coast, and it is from their 
ranks that the interior has been chiefly populated. 
Just as the Mulatto usually is gay and temperamental, 
so is the Curiboca almost always taciturn, fanatical in 
his religious beliefs, steadfast in all his doings, a cruel 
enemy, and an equally stanch friend. 

Though not so powerful in a single effort as the 
Mulatto, he is incredibly enduring of all kinds of hard- 
ships. His frame is light and active, his beard sparse, 
his speech slow and measured, and he is not without 
traces of ferocity, even of cruelty in his composition, 
inherited with his Indian blood. 

The Cafuz, known in the Spanish republics as the 
Zambo, is the lowest of the three types. Not lacking 
in physical strength or energy, his mental outlook is 
not infrequently backward and savage, and his features 
often squat and simian-looking. Roughly, it may be 
said that all three types afford a better field for the 
religious enthusiast or agitator to work upon than any 
to be met with throughout America. The agitation 
or enthusiasm, however, never exceeds the limits 
of the Catholic Church, and all the jarring sects, so 
common in the United States, are quite unknown in 
any portion of Brazil. 

Such movements as have arisen in Brazil—and they 
have been extremely numerous—have always been 
what one may style revolutions of the interior grace, to 
use a theological term, rather than of forms of Church 
government or of the right of individual interpretation 
of the Scriptures, such as have generally given rise to 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 13 


the myriad sects amongst the English and Americans. 
As the repeated crossings and intercrossings of the 
three races have produced a type of man, neither 
all Indian nor all white, but with a certain strain 
of negro blood who has become the inhabitant of 
the Sertoes,* slight, active, olive-coloured, and with 
abundant hair and scanty beard, so have they- formed 
a type of mind highly receptive of religious mania. 

Towards the production of this physical and moral 
type, undoubtedly the strange nature of the country, 
known as the Sertdo, has powerfully contributed, 
as also has the isolation of their lives. From the 
earliest colonial times the crown of Portugal neglected 
the Sertao because its only industry was cattle-breeding, 
and this did not afford in those days a good field for taxa- 
tion, which chiefly fell upon the gold mines of Goyaz. 

This circumstance, although in some respects it 
probably contributed to the increase of cattle-breeding, 
still further shut off the inhabitants from communion 
with the outer world. 

“To-day,” as Jodo Ribeira says in his “ History 
of Brazil,” “‘the Sertanejo presents a type finer and 
purer than the dweller on the coast, where the race is 
so much mixed with the negro blood. 

“<The Sertanejos are dark-skinned indeed, but their 
hair is often fair. . . . Being accustomed from their 
earliest youth to the use of arms, they are apt to fly 
to them unduly to revenge even the smallest slight. 

They are suspicious of all outside influence, and 
refractory to modern life.” 


* Plural of Sertdo. 
Tt Jodo Ribeira, “ Historio do Brazil,” Rio de Janeiro, 1909. 


14 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


In point of fact it took eighty to one hundred 
years to open up the Sertio properly. Only in 1715, 
and after the Treaty of Madrid was signed between 
Spain and Portugal, was the whole country free 
for cattle men to settle in and to possess. At first 
they settled timidly upon the foothills, then gradually 
passed them and spread to the interior ; but the chief 
road of Brazilian exploration and of settlement was 
by the River San Francisco, the only river.of consider- 
able size upon that region of the coast. They advanced 
along it, settling both sides, and by degrees came to 
the falls of Paulo Affonso, which checked their pro- 
gress, making them spread out towards the interior. 
These falls, whose very name is generally unknown to 
those who have not visited Brazil, are a worthy rival 
of Niagara. Their height is somewhere about two 
hundred and fifty feet, their volume little inferior to 
Niagara, but their surroundings, and the fact that just 
below the falls the river is narrowed to a chasm 
between two lofty rocks, makes them superior in 
interest to the more famous falls. The tropic vege- 
tation, with the groves of palms and of bamboos 
fringing the bank, the brightly coloured birds, the 
solitude, the perpetual rainbow that hangs upon the 
columns of white spray resembling a fog-bow seen at 
sea, and the deep channels just below the rocks 
cut into rapids and a thousand cataracts, make the 
Brazilian waterfall one of the finest in the world. 
Thus, in the Sertao all has contributed to a type 
of man and to a scheme of life perhaps unique in 
a world where all types tend to disappear. In fact, 
in all Brazil the Sertdo alone has the traditions of 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 15 


a national life, and it is there that one must look 
for the Brazilian with all his virtues and his vices most 
accentuated. 

Lying as the district does within the tropics, in 
latitude 13° below the line, the rains should be 
abundant and the climate tropical,* as they are upon 
the coast. It is far different inthe Sertao. As the road 
nears the mountains, little by little both soil and vege- 
tation change. The black, rich earth of the low 
alluvial plains melts by degrees and loses colour, until 
a region of a red, friable, sandy soil appears. That 
is the characteristic colour of the soil of the Sertdo, 
and also of great tracts of country in the interior 
of Brazil. The giants of the primeval forest, with 
their dark, metallic leaves all twisted round with 
rope-like creeping plants, whose branches of bright 
scarlet or vivid yellow blossoms hang in festoons, 
or, reaching up above the stem, appear to be the 
flowers of the tree to which they cling, disappear 
by degrees. Their place is taken by the cactuses 
and the Bromeliacee, especially the variety called in 
Brazil Caraguata, and in Jamaica the wild pineapple. 
Ceibas and Jacarandas, Sapucayas, Jequitibas, Moca- 
hybas, and all the myriad trees that flower and die 
unknown in the great forests of the coast, all disappear. 
The scrubby, thorny palm of the Sertdo, called Yatai 
in Paraguay, the Mangabeira, with its whitish-yellow 
flowers that look like jasmine, and the Imbuzeiro, 
whose leaves resist the devouring droughts of summer 


* Asin most tropical countries, there are only two seasons, the 
wet and dry. In the Sertdo they are known as “ Verde e Magrem” 
—literally, the “ green and fasting.” 


16 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


and furnish fodder for the cattle, and a dish known 
to the Sertanejos as “‘imbuzada,” made from a paste 
procured by pounding up the nuts, alone endure the 
climate and the scant, sandy soil. 

These and a thorny scrub are the chief vegetation 
of the “ caatingas”’ as they are called, those little open 
plains bounded by thick, almost impenetrable bush, 
which tears all clothing but the deerskin that the 
Vaqueiros* wear. Lichens and moss all disappear in 
the dry, arid climate, whilst here and there under 
a palm-tree are seen those water holes known as 
“‘cacimbas,” which the inhabitants, who wage a con- 
stant war with thirst at certain seasons of the year, dig 
where a trace of vegetation shows there is water 
underneath the ground. Little by little the landscape 
grows impassive, almost menacing, naked, inhospitable, 
and monotonous, It is a land of thirst, of great 
extremes of temperature, of sudden storms, of frozen 
nights succeeding days of the intensest heat; a land 
where man has got to fight for his existence against 
drought, storms, heat, cold, hunger, and thirst, and 
thus becomes toughened and hardened, bodily and 
mentally thrown back upon himself, fanatical in 
his religion, introspective, visionary, brave, hospitable, 
suspicious, cruel and generous, made up of contradic- 
tions, fitted to struggle with the daily trials of his life. 
In the blazing heat and scorching cold the very 
plants get stunted; the leguminose that generally 
grow so tall within the tropics, here are dwarfed. 
Amongst that family, the plants called “as favellas” 
by the Sertanejos, unclassified as far as at present 


* Vaqueiro=cattle-herder. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 17 


known in any catalogue of plants, has the strange 
property that one side of its leaf retains the coldness 
of the night air, at the same time the other keeps the 
noonday temperature. Other plants, such as_ that 
known as “as patatas do Vaqueiro,”* have roots that 
penetrate yards under the surface of the ground. It 
also furnishes a tuber not unlike the potato, which 
in the droughts often is the sole food of the 
inhabitants. 

This struggle for existence amongst plants and 
trees presents its counterpart amongst mankind. The 
climate sees to it that only those most fitted to resist 
it arrive at manhood, and the rude life they subse- 
quently lead has forged a race as hard as the Castilians, 
the Turk, the Scythians of old, or as the Mexicans. 

No race in all America is better fitted to cope with 
the wilderness. The Sertanejo is emphatically what 
the French call “a male.” His Indian blood has given 
him endurance and a superhuman patience in adversity. 
From his white forefathers he has derived intelligence, 
the love of individual as opposed to general freedom 
inherent in the Latin races, good manners, and a 
sound dose of self-respect. His tinge of negro blood, 
although in the Sertdo it tends to disappear out of the 
race, at least in outward characteristics, may perchance 
have given him whatever qualities the African can 
claim. Far from demonstrative, he yet feels deeply ; 
never forgets a benefit, and cherishes an insult as if it 
were a pearl of price, safe to revenge it when the 
season offers or when the enemy is off his guard. 

* The plant is described, but not classified, in Henderson’s 


“ Brazil.” It is probably of the Convolvulus family. 
2 


18 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Centaurs before the Lord, the Sertanejos do not 
appear (almost alone of horsemen) to have that pride 
in their appearance so noticeable in the Gaucho, the 
Mexican, and in the Arabs of North Africa. Seated 
in his short curved saddle, a modification of the 
‘“‘recao”’ used on the Pampas of the Argentine, the 
Sertanejo lounges, sticks his feet forward, and rides, 
as goes the saying, all about his horse, using, 
of course, a single rein, and the high hand all 
natural horsemen affect.* Yet, when a bunch of 
cattle break into a wild stampede, the man is suddenly 
transformed. Then he sits upright as a lance, or, 
bending low over his horse’s neck, flies at a break-neck 
pace, dashing through the thick scrub of the Caatingas 
in a way that must be seen to be believed. Menacing 
boughs hang low and threaten him. He throws 
himself flat on the horse’s back, and passes under 
them. A tree stands in his way right in the middle 
of his headlong career. If his horse, highly trained 
and bitted, fails to stop in time, he slips off like a drop 
of water from a pane of glass at the last moment, or if 
there is the smallest chance of passing on one side, 
lies low along his horse’s flank after the fashion of an 
old-time Apache or Comanche on the war-path. 

The frightened cattle rush through the Caatinga 
with the speed of thought. The thick scrub opens 
at their passage, and hides them utterly. The 
Sertanejo follows, and he too passes and is swallowed 
up, leaving no trace of where he has passed through. 

* The bit used all over Brazil is a modification of the bit brought 


by the conquerors, and is not unlike that of the horse in King 
Charles’s statue in Trafalgar Square. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 1g 


“Where the steer* passes, there the Vaqueiro with his 
horse can pass,” is a proverbial saying in the Sertio, 
and it is certainly a fact. If the bunch of cattle that 
he is pursuing should be sufficiently incautious to 
leave the shelter of the woods and enter one of the 
little plains that stretch like lakes or like oases in the 
middle of the woods, the Vaqueiro, brandishing his 
long and iron-tipped goad, called a “ guiada,” is on 
their flanks within the twinkling of an eye, and turns 
them back into the road for home. Asa general rule 
unless frightened by fire or when they run before a 
storm, cattle—that is, semi-domesticated cattle—settle 
down when they are turned. It takes a good horse 
and a bold rider to come up with a bunch of 
frightened cattle upon any ground; but then no 
horseman in the world can hold his own with the 
Vaqueiro of the Sertdo dressed in his panoply of 
leather and on the ground he knows. 

* ¢ Por onde passa o boi, passa o vaqueiro com o seu caballo.” 

t I use the word “ panoply ” advisedly, for the effect of the stiff 
leather clothes is very like that of armour. The outfit consists of : The 
hat (chapeio) ; this is low, very stiff-brimmed, and not much unlike 
the steel hat our troops use in France ; it is kept in place by a leather 
chin-strap. The leather gauntlets (“as luvas”). The skin-tight 
trousers (“‘as perneras”’); they have to be tight-fitting, for any fold 
would catch the thorns and tear in their wild gallops through 
the bush. ‘The jacket, called “0 gibdo,”’ which literally means a 
doublet, The knee-caps (“as joelheiras ”), to protect the knees from 
thorns, and stiff gaiters, known as “ guarda-pes,” complete the 
accoutrement. ‘The horse, too, has his armour, without which he 
would be torn to pieces in the thorns. Over his quarters falls a 
covering of hide which reaches almost to his hocks. His “ joel- 
heiras”” protect his knees as they do those of the Vaqueiro who 
directs him. Lastly, “0 peitoral”’ covers his shoulders and protects 
the chest. The horse is seldom shod, but does not seem to feel the 


want of shoes even amongst the stones. The horses of the Sertdo 
are small, never exceeding fourteen hands. ‘They all are trained to 


SOii LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


When once the Vaqueiro sees the cattle begin to 
settle down and “ string out,” as it is called, in a long 
file, or stand and gaze and then begin to eat, he raises 
the curious chant called O Aboio—that is the Cattle 
Song. Sometimes it is sounded with a horn ; but on 
occasions such as this the Boiaro* begins to sing in a 
low, melancholy voice. The effect is soothing on the 
cattle, and the drawn-out syllables— 

“FE cou mansio 

E cou e cio ”’— 
have a strange effect as they go echoing through the 
woods. Alli this occurs if the stampeded cattle keep 
together and are able to be turned. If, on the other 
hand, a beast or two cut from the herd and take their 
course alone, the Vaqueiro, who cannot use the lazo on 
account of the thick scrub, resorts to the “ saiada,” 
which generally succeeds in taming even the wildest 
beast. 

Keeping his horse in hand and watching well his 
opportunity, the Vaqueiro, when he sees an open 
place, loosens his head and spurs him. In a bound or 
two he puts himself close alongside the steer. Then, 
bending in the saddle, he takes a firm hold of the 
bullock’s tail, and turns his horse a little outwards, 
and with a powerful twist and jerk, he throws the 
animal upon its side.{ The shock is violent, and the 





amble, and are descended from the horses brought by the conquerors, 
without any admixture of blood, since the conquest. 

* ‘There is no word I know in English to express Boiaro. ‘There 
may have been one in Sussex, where oxen were used for ploughing 
and in carts. “The French “ bouvier ” is an exact translation. 

Tt Sometimes this feat is performed with the goad, which is pressed 
on the animal’s thigh as the hind feet leave the ground. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 21 


feat not easy to perform. Quicker than thought, 
before the animal can rise, the Vaqueiro springs from 
his horse, alighting like a cat upon his feet. His 
horse stands still, trained to avoid the long hide reins 
which the Vaqueiro throws upon the ground. Then, 
rushing to the prostrate animal, he drags its forefoot 
over the near horn and leaves it helpless on the ground. 
His horse awaits him like a statue, and he, bounding 
upon its back, is off again after another animal. ‘The 
whole thing passes in a flash, and in an instant the 
scrub has closed upon the horseman, leaving the 
bullock till he comes back again to take its foot down 
from its horn. 

This operation is a dangerous one, tor by this time 
the animal has got its wind again, and not unlikely 
charges the instant that it feels that it is free. Then 
comes the use of the long open reins, which generally 
are seven feet in length. Holding them by their 
extremities, the Vaqueiro carefully goes up to the 
fallen animal, taking good care to keepa tight hand on 
his reins. 

Sometimes the shock has taken all the fight out 
of the bullock, who rises sullenly and then begins 
to eat. In that case he gives no more trouble, 
and can be driven peaceably towards the bunch of 
cattle which by that time is being kept together by © 
several horsemen. At other times he charges savagely. 
Then the Vaqueiro either mounts as quickly as he can 
and gallops off, or, diving underneath his horse, mounts 
on the offside, leaving the bullock looking for him in 
amazement. This sort of life, sustained upon a diet 
of dried beef, called by the Vaqueiros Carne do 


22 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


vento* (that is, wind-dried meat), and Angu, a sort ot 
porridge made of maize or from a paste of the nuts 
of the palm called Coco Naia, makes a race of men 
not to be daunted even by the climate of the Sertdo. 

On foot they walk like sailors just come ashore 
after a whaling cruise, rolling about upon their legs, 
bandied by early riding, as do the cow-punchers ot 
Western America, and as the Medes were said to walk 
by the Greek historians. 

Nevertheless, they go out with a forked stick and 
a long knife on foot to kill the jaguar, called by them 
Sucuarana, which must be a Tupi or some other 
Indian word. ‘The method they adopt is simple, for 
having tracked the jaguar, they rouse him from his 
lair with dogs, and when he charges, as he generally 
does when he finds himself at bay, the man who 
carries the forked stick drops on one knee and catches 
the beast with it as he springs. His companion, who 
either has a long, sharp knife or a short, heavy spear, 
loses no time in burying it in the jaguar’s belly or his 
throat. This sport, which must be quite as exciting 

* Carne do vento is the Charqui of the Argentines, the Tasajo ot 
the Mexicans, or the Biltong of the Boers. It is made by cutting 
beef into long thin strips and exposing it to the sun for about three 
days. It can be dipped in orange, lemon, or other juices to give 
it a flavour, Few European teeth stand it long. Pounded and 
mixed with a little cinnamon it is life-sustaining on a journey, but 
scarcely palatable. “The Sertanejos do not use it in this manner as 
far as 1 know, but they do use a curious confection known as “ esteira 
de Imbu,” which is the juice of the Imbuzeiro run into a mould and 
hardened. It is then rolled into thin cylinders like wafers. It keeps 
a long time, is very handy for a journey, and very sustaining. 

t Jaguar means dog in Guarani, and a tiger is called Jaguareté— 
that is, the big dog ; for the Guaranis did not know the cat till after 


the conquest. The first cats taken to Asuncion sold for a pound of 
gold. When I knew the place the price had fallen. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 23 


as shooting pigeons from a trap, is often fatal to the 
sportsmen if anything goes wrong. In Brazil,- in 
Mexico and Venezuela, many large cattle farms have a 
man called a tigrero, for the jaguar is generally called 
el tigre (the tiger) in the Spanish Republics, whose 
office is to kill the tigers who prey upon the stock. 

The fight with the droughts, which are the curse of 
the Sertao, and the isolated life probably account for 
the intensity of the religious faith of the inhabitants. 
Abandoned as they have been for the last three 
hundred years, with scarcely any intercourse with any- 
body from the outside world, Catholicism with them 
has taken on many of the characteristics of the hardest 
Presbyterianism. Sermons are filled with hell and 
with its flames. The pains and penalties that await 
the sinner, the tortures of the damned, are all set forth 
with just as faithful ministration as used to be the 
fashion of the Cameronians of old. 

Their religion neither consoles nor softens. A 
fitting faith for a hard land, it has produced a people 
hard as itself. Faithful indeed to the shedding ot 
blood, their own or that of others, they look up to their 
priests, or to the various religious leaders who have 
from time to time arisen amongst them, as something 
superhuman and in direct communication with the 
Deity. 

Nature and circumstances seem to have worked 
together to prepare the inhabitants of the Sertado for 
the great adventure into which they plunged in 1896. 

The history of the numberless religious communities 
in Brazil—for they can hardly be termed “sects,” never 


having left the Church in which they took their 


24 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


origin—is highly curious, and hitherto has not been 
dealt with adequately. Yet they have been con- 
tinuous, and now and then fraught with considerable 
danger to the State. It affords field for speculation 
why the Portuguese, so much less fanatical upon the 
whole than were the Spaniards in the New World, 
should have exhibited such strange religious movements 
in Brazil, and more especially in the State of Bahia, 
almost the first of the territories to be colonised. 

The reason may be found perhaps in the clash or 
temperaments involved in the excessive crossing of the 
various types. The Portuguese, a race of Latin 
stock, mixed in the north with Celtic and in the 
south with Arab and with Berber blood, had, at the 
time the conquest of Brazil was carried out, become 
infected, in Lisbon and the surrounding district, with 
a strain of negro blood. It was estimated that there 
were at least ten thousand negroes in the capital, 
the result of the Portuguese conquests on the Guinea 
coasts. 

Garcia de Rezende, a writer of those days (1530), 
says in verse, of which the following is the free 
rendering : “ We see the number of slaves put into 
the kingdom increase so much that the natives will 
have to go. Thus, soon, they [the captives] will 
itumber more than us, as I see the question.”* 

Thus the Portuguese at that time, or at least those 
coming from Lisbon and the south, with the probable 
* « Vemos no reyno metter 
‘Tantos captivos crescer 

lrense os naturaes 


Que se assim for serio mais 
Elles que nds, a meu ver.” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 25 


tinge of negro blood they had in them, must also 
certainly have had a disposition, or predisposition, to 
the animism so characteristic of the negro race. 
Those who have known the negro on the coast of 
Africa have all remarked the enormous place religion 
—for it is just as hard to set the bounds between religion 
and superstition as those of instinct and of reason, and 
to say where the one finishes and the next begins— 
holds in his mind and life. 

His world is full of spirits—of the streams, the trees, 
the dead. The living can dissociate their bodies from 
their souls to plague the negro. He lives surrounded 
by a world he cannot see, but feels in every action of 
his life. Hence his belief in gri-gris, fetishes,* the 
multiplicity of Ju-Ju houses, his human sacrifices, 
witch doctors, and in some instances his cannibalism. 
No race of men has ever been a fairer field for 
missionary work. Theirs is a mind prepared to 
listen to anyone who has a theory of the universe; to 
listen and accept, and place the gods—for naturally 
the negro looked upon the Trinity as three new beings 
sent to him to adore—in his Pantheon. 

No race of men ever, when once converted, sang 
their hymns with greater fervour. The Methodist, 
Wesleyan, Presbyterian, and generally all sects that 
place faith over works, appealed to his imagination, 
and marked himastheir own. Curiously enough, the 
Roman Catholics, though so successful with the 
Indians of America, some of the races of the East, and 
the Chinese, seem to have made but small appeal to 
any of the races on the coast of Africa. The Mass, 


* From the Portuguese “ feitico.” 


26 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


sO awe-inspiring to the Indians, says little to the negro 
(of the Coast); but, on the contrary, seems to dissever 
him from all participation in the worship he attends. 
He likes to sing, to pray, and to perspire with fervour, 
and feel himself, as it were, in direct communication 
with his God. Faith, with the negro, is the sheet 
anchor, and what is the use, if the sheet anchor holds, 
of putting out a smaller holdfast anywhere? Hence 
his neglect of works. ‘That such is pretty nearly 
absolute, all those who know Jamaica, the Southern 
States of North America, or any other place where 
negroes have adopted any of the more animistic of the 
creeds of Protestantism, can testify. 

Faith, to the negro nature, is a necessity of lite. 
Good works do not appear to enter into his mental 
composition, and hence perhaps the curious likeness 
that is to be observed between so many of the religious 
movements that have arisen in Brazil and those of 
Asia Minor in the first and second centuries. 

The Indian of Brazil has, with slight. differences, 
the characteristics to be observed in all the Indians ot 
America, outside the redskin tribes. We can but 
judge what kind of men the Tupis were by the 
crossbreeds that they have left, and by the Indians 
who to-day exist in various quarters of Brazil under 
conditions similar to theirs at the first conquest of the 
land. Still, it is to be observed, in judging men ot 
savage races, who for three hundred years or more, as 
in Brazil, have lived under the knowledge and the 
menace of the whites, and usually have come in 
contact only with the scum of the white population 
on the frontiers, or with the soldiers sent against them 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 27 


in military expeditions, that they are certainly inferior 
to what they were three hundred years ago. Generally 
their chiefs and men of superior caste have been killed 
off, their daughters in the days of the first conquest 
often marrying whites, as in the case of Paraguassu, 
and the Inca princess who married Garcilaso de la 
Vega, and many other instances. 

Often the wilder tribes exist in almost the same 
state as that in which the first historians of the Indies 
wrote of them, but having dropped the industries, 
which they were slowly struggling to a knowledge of, 
and gone back absolutely to a savage state. This is 
especially to be noted in the case of a tribe known as 
the Pimentereios, who in the year 1760 suddenly made 
their appearance in the State of Piauhy.* No one 
knew where they came from; for fifty years no 
Indians had been known in a wild state throughout 
the territory. The Pimentereios soon made their 
presence felt by slaughtering cattle, burning isolated 
houses, and killing everyone they came across, ‘They 
kept the territory in alarm for years, till a Paulista,+ 
one Domingos Jorge, exterminated many of them and 
forced the others to retire. It was conjectured that 
these Indians were the descendants of a domesticated 


* ‘This State borders upon Pernambuco on the south and Maranhao 
on the north. 

t The Paulistas were the inhabitants of Sdo Paulo, a southern 
State. Most of them at the time of Domingos Jorge had Indian 
blood. Yet, under the name of Mamalucos, the Indians of the Jesuit 
Reductions in Paraguay never had enemies so bitter or so cruel. The 
forays of the Paulistas in search of slaves forced the Jesuits to make 
their celebrated retreat with all their neophytes, a retreat which 
Father Ruiz Montoya has described so graphically that it has become 
almost the epic of the Guaranis. 


28 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


tribe living near a place called Quebrobo, and that 
they had left a life of semi-civilisation to go back to 
the woods, having refused to fight against their wilder 
brethren, when called upon to do so by the whites. 
Should, therefore, any of them have survived to-day in 
a wild state, deep in the equatorial forests, it is clear 
that they must now be savager and less civilised than 
they were in the year 1760, after their short experience 
of settled life. ‘The Indians of Brazil, left probably 
without their chiefs, and converted more or less 
by force, found in the Jesuits their best protectors 
against the colonists, who looked on them as merely 
beasts of burden, though, luckily for the Indians, at 
that time there were no mines discovered in Brazil, 
as there had been in nearly all the Spanish colonies. 
The Jesuits probably treated them somewhat as 
neophytes to be instructed in the faith—somewhat in 
the fashion of indentured labourers. At any rate, 
their yoke was preferable to that of the Paulistas or ot 
the sugar-planters. ‘The Jesuit system was to assemble 
as many Indians as they could in villages. In 
Paraguay, at least, where they had to deal with the 
gentle Guaranis, their rule was light, and now and 
then they winked at the Indians retaining pagan 
ceremonies, so that they had not anything cruel in 
them. In Brazil the Tupis were a harder race, and 
the settlements the Jesuits made never attained the 
great proportions of their Reductions in Paraguay,* 
although from the first conquests they laboured in the 
same way as they did in the former country. 


* “ EF os ajuntaram em grandes alldeias.””—“ Annaes da Biblioteca 
Nacional,” Rio de Janeiro, 1906. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 29 


Vicente Monteiro in his report to Mem de Sa, the 
Governor, talks of the Jesuits having been advised to 
gather up (the Indians) in large villages. As time 
went on and interbreeding both with the whites and 
negroes took place, the Indians in the villages 
gradually became absorbed into the civil population. 

Their natural character, hard and suspicious, fierce 
and bloodthirsty, had not the time, that it had in 
Paraguay, to become modified under the Jesuit rule. 
No race in all the world is so impenetrable as is the 
Indian, in the reserve with which it arms itself against 
the ills of fortune, fights against tyranny or resists 
oppression, so to speak by enduring it without 
complaint. Such a race of men, reserved, suspicious, 
hospitable, vindictive, brave, cruel and hardy, taciturn 
in speech, and patient almost beyond the bounds of 
human patience, was almost certain to become imbued 
with strong religious faith. They had not, as had 
the negroes, a well-inhabited Pantheon, to which to 
add another deity or two was but a simple thing, for 
room was ample and the newcomer had full elbow- 
room. ‘Their atmosphere, their trees, their rivers and 
their world in general contained no wealth of spirits. 
They had no Ju-Ju houses, and their fetishes were 
few, feeble, and far between. Their cast of mind 
was the least animistic, with the exception, possibly, of 
that of the Arabs, of any of the races of mankind. 
Their forms of worship were extremely simple, their 
dogmas simpler, consisting often of little more than 
some vague belief in a great spirit or of sun-worship. 
They used no human sacrifice -in their religion*—at 


* Cannibalism, though, was widely diffused amongst them. 


30 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


least, the Indians of Brazil are not known ever to have 
done so—and generally their ritual consisted in pour- 
ing out a calabash of water to the sun at daybreak, if 
it was him that they adored. None of them had 
idols, nor do the Jesuits or the Franciscans, or any of 
the missionaries who knew them at the conquest or 
shortly afterwards, ever make mention of anything 
approaching to what they certainly would have called 
graven images. Most of them seem to have believed 
in a spirit of evil, to be propitiated in the usual way, 
by offerings of fruit and flowers, of game, and 
generally of anything the offerer had no great use for, 
though in some cases he would offer up a favourite 
bow, or blowpipe, and in extremity a finger from his 
hand. This spirit, who really had so much more 
influence on their lives than his antagonist, the good 
spirit, just as it often happens with ourselves, was 
called Anhanga. Their deity they named Tupan, 
and as the early Jesuit missionaries say, gave almost 
equal cult to the twin deities, although Tupan they 
held as the creator of the world. They nearly all 
believed in the immortality of the soul; but that 
belief seems to have had but little influence on their 
lives, much in the same way that beliefs in general, 
however strongly held, appear to spend themselves in 
the mere action of belief, and are but seldom followed 
by good deeds. The Tupis seem to have come toa 
comprehension of the true faith—that is to say, the 
true faith as the Jesuits conceived it—not without 
difficulty. 

Baptism for a long time stuck in their throats, 
although to us it seems a simple enough rite. They 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 31 


thought it likely to bring on coughs and colds, a not 
unreasonable* superstition, if the immersion plan was 
general amongst the missionaries. Smallpox was also 
almost certain to ensue after this fateful ceremony. 

Father Lorenzana, writing of the Chaco tribes,- 
mentions a similar belief, and says that the poor Indian 
attacked by any illness imported from Europe sought 
to free himself from the effects of baptism by wash- 
ing his head with sand, and scraping his tongue with 
a shell. 

Occasionally, the Tupis after conversion altered the 
Catholic faith to what to them seemed natural, and 
Southey tells that a Jesuit complained that having 
delayed his visitation for two years, he found a chief 
had set up a new faith, in which the Blessed Virgin 
had become God’s wife. ‘The Jesuit complains that 
these “‘ heretics” used the symbol of the cross, but 
without veneration, though he does not explain the 
way in which they lacked the veneration necessary. 

All -was put right as Southey tells us  tartly, 
by the chief’s death, “for his mythology perished 
with him.” In fact, when the mad dog is dead 
the rabies also dies, as goes the adage, in Castilian. 

Thus the conversion of the Tupis had its difficulties, 
and even then in their Malocas} were to be found the 


* Southey, in his “ History of Brazil,” quotes this singular super- 
stition from the works of a Jesuit. 

t+ Lorenzana, “ Gran Chaco de Gualamba.” 

{ Maloca was the word used for the primitive Indian settlements. 
The houses were generally built in a square, round a central plaza, 
and communicated with one another. ‘This form was adopted by the 
Jesuits in Paraguay, or allowed to remain, in their Reductions, and is 
to be seen still both in that country and Brazil. 


32 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


germs of heresy, destined to bear its fruit in the 
religious history of Brazil. 

What chiefly differentiated all the wild Indians of 
America from every other of the races of mankind 
was their attachment to their individual liberty.* 
Their chiefs seldom had great authority, and usually 
were chosen but for the duration of a war, and even 
then had no concern with anything but military 
things. Few of them were polygamists, and in the 
relationship between the sexes-+ were singularly strict, 
until the whites, in introducing the true faith amongst 
them, failed first to comprehend that faith themselves 
and then by their example broke down the tribal 
habits that had survived from the remotest ages of 
mankind, and gave the Indians no fixed rule of 
conduct that they themselves observed. ‘This was a 
fact the better of the conquerors often realised, though 
usually upon their death-beds, as was the case with 
the last living of the conquerors of Peru who had 
accompanied Pizarro from the first setting out from 
Panama. This man, by name Marcio Serra de 
Lejesama, in his confession just before his death, 
addressed, as he says, to our Lord King Philip II. 
(1589), after rehearsing, as it were, the profession of 


his faith, and setting forth that all he did had been ill 


* “Caboclo he so paro hoje” is a saying in the Sertdo, meaning 


that one cannot count upon an Indian for more than one day, and that 
he will not be bound by his own employer to keep on working. 

In his well-known “Down the Orinoco in a Canoe,” Perez 
Triana tells of an Indian before whom he spread red baize and 
hatchets, gunpowder and knives—the wealth of Potosi to an Indian— 
to tempt him to engage to paddle for three days. All was in vain, and 
the Indian went off happy in his liberty. 

t Padre Gumilla, in his “ Orinoco Ilustrado,” insists on this point. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 33 


done, puts on record, “that when we dispossessed 
these people of their lands, there was no thief in 
the whole territory, nor any maid or woman who was 
living an ill life.” This done, he finished, saying, “I 
pray to God that He will pardon me, for I am the 
last to die of all the conquerors and the discoverers . . . 
and I now do what I can to relieve my conscience.”* 

There have been worse death-beds of more pious 
men than Lejesama was, and it is to be hoped his 
Lord did pardon him—that is, if even He had power 
to wipe out yesterday, making it even as to-day. 
Some few there were who did not need to pray upon 
their death-beds, except as we have all the need of it. 
Such were the good Lorenzano de Aldana, who came 
with Alvarado to Peru. He, in his will, left all his 
property to his Indians, in payment of their tribute 
in the future during their natural lives. He, with 
Alvar Nunez Cabeca de Vaca, and Vasco Nunez de 
Balboa, with a few more, were the bright spirits who 
rose superior to their times, by their humanity. 

The witch-doctor, although an institution in almost 
all the Indian tribes, played a part far inferior to that 
played by the Gri-gri man amongst the negroes on 
the coast of Africa. ‘The attitude of the converted 
Indian towards religion was widely different from 
that the negro always has assumed. Silent and intro- 
spective as he was, the Indian naturally took his 


* This Lejesama was the man who, as his share of the Inca’s 
treasure, was adjudged the golden sun from the Temple of the Sun in 
Cuzeo. He staked and lost it at a game of cards. Afterwards he 
never touched a card during his eventful life. 

Repentance usually seems to have come to him tardily, as it does 
to most of us. 


a 


34. LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


religion very seriously. No one has ever heard a 
band of Indians singing hymns, and nothing of the 
curious fervour of the negro ever attaches to him. 
Upon the other hand, the “ credo quia impossibilis ” 
is quite in his vein, and his priests usually find him 
an obedient member of his Church. 

The junction of such strangely different idiosyn- 
crasies, dominated by the more potent strain brought 
by the Portuguese, produced a religious caste of mind 
specially suited to the growth of a rude Gnosticism. 
Three centuries of isolation have given ample time 
for its development. The Sertanejos have been all 
that time cut off from the exterior world, partly 
by circumstances and partly of their own free will. 
Brazil, unlike most other countries of America, was 
not first settled up on the sea coast or in the flat country 
between it and the hills. The ports were built, 
and sugar-planting entered into in the States, such 
as Bahia, that lie within the tropics. Then the 
peculiar configuration of the country, the spur of 
enterprise—and the Portuguese of those days were 
born explorers and discoverers—drew in the first place 
expeditions to search for gold and silver across the 
mountain ranges that run nearly along the whole 
coast of Brazil at an average distance of about twenty 
to nearly sixty miles; then cattle-breeders followed 
them. None of the mountains in Bahia exceed four 
thousand feet in height. The passes never are more 
than eighteen hundred to two thousand feet above the 
level of the sea. Once past them, the region called 
the Sertado begins, different in all respects from the 
coastal plains. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 35 


The barrier of granitic gneiss, cut here and there 
by bands of sand and chalk, and dykes of eruptive 
basic rock, shut off the unknown interior from the 
first settlers. 

The Indians of the coast received what gold they 
had from the tribes beyond the mountains. Occasion- 
ally an Indian from the interior coming to purchase 
salt, or drawn perhaps by the accounts he heard of the 
new race of bearded beings who rode strange animals 
that belched out fire and smoke,* would come and 
talk of the cool climate and the open plains beyond 
the hills. The people on the coast, sweltering in the 
tropic heat, shut in by the dense wall of vegetation 
that even still seems to throw a ring fence round the 
belt that stretches from the ocean to the hills, were 
naturally anxious to see the unknown country for 
themselves. 

These adventures always proceeded on one plan. 
The adventurers formed themselves into a company, 
known in Brazilian Portuguese as a _ Bandeira. 
Those who formed the Bandeira contributed arms, 
money, food, and horses, according to their means ; 
from the Bandeira came the term “ Bandeirante,” so 
well known in the history of the conquest of Brazil. 
The leaders bore the name of Certanistas, and some of 
them had marvellous adventures, and have become 
half legendary, their exploits, curious and wild enough, 
having been mellowed and expanded under the micro- 


* In many parts of America the Indians thought the horse and his 
rider were one flesh, and that the musket shots were flames breathed 
by the horse, so that to them, literally, his neck was clothed with 
thunder. 


36 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


scope of time. Nothing is commoner than to hear a 
Fazendeiro,* either in Sao Paulo or Bahia, say: * My 
ancestor was a Bandeirante.” It gives him, as it were, a 
halo, just as with us to be descended from a Norman 
baron or a Highland Chief imparts a status often as 
difficult of proof. 

Still, many of the expeditions of the Bandeirantes 
are historical, and the adventures they encountered 
and the privations they endured are truly marvellous, 
especially of those who penetrated the mountain 
barrier in the first settlement of Sdo Paulo, and of the 
distant Matto Grosso, whose fastnesses are little 
known, even at the present day. 

Most of these Bandeirantes were Paulistas—that is, 
inhabitants of Sado Paulo—an adventurous race, who 
from the first have set their seal upon Brazil. 

As far back as the middle of the sixteenth century 
a Bandeirante, one Aleixo Garcia, with his brother 
and a small. expedition, crossed the continent, and 
passing through what is now Paraguay, reached to 
the foothills of the Andes, a journey that seems 
hardly possible, given the dithculties he had to meet 
with, the absolutely unknown country that he had to 
cross, the enormous distance, and the tribes of savage 
Indians through whose territories he was obliged to 
pass One almost fancies that, like Fray Marcos de 
Niza, the bold friar who set out from Southern 
California and reached the Pueblos on the Rio 
Grande, visiting Zuni and describing it with the strange 
customs of the Indians, he must “ have followed where 


* Fazendeiro is a man who has a fazenda—that is, an estate; thus 
fazendeiro equals landowner. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 37 


the Holy Ghost did lead.” Few expeditions in the 
history of the opening up of a new territory have 
undergone more hardships than the brief records of 
the Bandeiras have preserved for us. The first Ban- 
deiras that left the coast had but the vaguest notions 
of the route they had to take to pass across the hills. 
A year or two, or even three years, was an ordinary 
time for them to be away wandering amongst the 
woods, crossing great rivers, scaling hills, harassed by 
constant Indian attacks, a prey to every kind of insect 
that makes life a burden in the wilderness of never- 
ending trees, all bound together with lianas, thorny 
and hostile to mankind. Gold was the lodestar that 
drew them into the interior, but for full one hundred 
years they never found it, till at last, one Bartolomeo 
Bueno struck the rich mining regions of Goyaz, after 
three years of ineffectual effort, and of miseries, Two 
of the best known Bandeirantes were Englishmen, and 
figure as Antonio Kinvet and Henrique Barroway in 
the annals of the time.* 

Antonio and Henrique seem to have been what 
they no doubt styled “ free-traders,” and the Brazilian 
probably more bluntly called pirates, for they were 
taken prisoners in a “ Corsario Inglez,” and long 
detained in prison, either on account of their heretical 
opinions or their piratical exploits, or an admixture of 
the two. Being released, they joined the Bandeira of 
Correa de Sa in 1597, and had incredible adventures 
in the interior. They settled down at last, as mere 
cattle farmers, and probably married ‘Tupi women, 


* “ Revista do Instituto Historico do Rio de Janeiro,” vol. ii., 1878. 


38 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


especially as Pedro Vas de Caminha, in his celebrated 
letter to the King in 1580, refers to these ladies as 
““ Mocas bem gentis,” and says in grace they owed but 
little to the Lisbon girls. 
_ By slow degrees the Sert&éo was peopled, and as the 
climate was much cooler than the coast, the settlers 
gradually began to raise large herds of cattle and of 
goats. ‘The country, although not open as in the 
provinces of Parana and Rio Grande, was rich in little 
plains hemmed in by belts of scrub. These were 
the lands now known as the Caatingas, famous for 
cattle-breeding. Thus the interior was sooner settled 
up than was the coast, which to this day, as is to be 
observed even outside the capital, is shut off from the 
mountains by a dense belt of the primeval forest, 
giving to those who go no further a false view of the 
country, in which civilisation seems to end in the vast 
waves of jungle that stretch on every side. The real 
Brazilians of the old school, the true descendants of 
the intrepid Bandeirantes, are only to be found in the 
interior. There they still live a semi-patriarchal life, 
and are but little touched by all the changes which 
render those who live in towns subject to constant 
changes that cut them off in sentiment from the 
generations that preceded them. In the long-drawn- 
out expeditions of the Bandeirantes, the character of 
the Brazilian race must have been slowly forming, 
as they passed their lives struggling to penetrate the 
unknown interior. 

As European women seldom or never accompanied 
the first discoverers, they formed alliances with the 
Indians, and as they pushed back further from the 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 39 


coast, much fewer opportunities arose to mix their 
blood with the black race, and thus their children 
nearly all became what were termed Mamalucos—that 
is, half white, half Indian—inheriting on the one side 
the Portuguese tendency to mysticism, and on the 
other the melancholy and introspection of the Indian, 
rendering them susceptible to that fanaticism which 
has so often manifested itself in Pernambuco and 
Bahia during the last three hundred years. 

Indians and negroes alike seem to have fallen 
victims to it, manifesting their differing racial 
characteristics in the various outbreaks of religious 
mania that have taken place. ‘These outbursts were, 
after all, not so much to be wondered at when the 
religious history of Portugal itself is studied care- 
fully. Nothing of the same kind ever took place in 
Spain; the materialistic character of its inhabitants pre- 
served them from outbreaks of that sort. Hermits and 
saints Spain has produced in quantities, but Spanish 
history does not seem to contain any account of 
movements such as that headed by the mystical 
fanatic known as the King of Penamacor, or that 
headed by the man who styled himself the King of 
Ericeira. Both of these worthies, followed by a crowd 
of their disciples, betook themselves to solitary places 
in the hills, wandering about, subsisting more or less 
on locusts and wild honey, passing the day in listening 
to their leaders preach, the night often in singing hymns 
and in debauchery. Their faith was quite undoubted. 
Their actions did not seem to them to matter so 
long as they maintained their faith. ‘Thus did the 
followers of Montanus and Carpocrates act, in the 


40 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


’ 


second century. ‘“‘ Mysticism,’ Renan says in his 
“‘ L’Eglise Chrétienne,” ‘has always been a moral 
danger, for it allows [people] to think too easily that 
by initiation a man is freed from ordinary duties.”’* 

The Gnostics were reported to have held, perhaps 
by their enemies, that things of the flesh are fleshly, 
things of the soul are spiritual. This axiom once 
accepted, any kind of conduct is right; or, perhaps, 
to put it accurately, all kinds of conduct, for a man 
who conforms to it may be an ascetic one day and 
a libertine the next, until advancing age makes him 
indifferent to both. 

Akin to these outbreaks of religious illumination 
under the two “ Kings,” was the politico-mystic creed 
of the Sebastianists.j~ This sect, extinct in Portugal, 
in Brazil survived down to the year 1896, and 
possibly survives up to the present day. Thus did the 
Portuguese come well prepared for spiritual adventures 
to the New World. Mysterious flames that issued 
from caverns in the hills, coffins that floated in the air 
over the palaces of kings, shadowy battalions of Moors 
clothed in burnouses, who at due intervals appeared 


* “Te mysticisme a toujours été un danger moral, car il laisse 
trop facilement entendre que par Vl initiation en est dispensé des 
devoirs ordinaires.”—“ L’Eglise Chrétienne,”’ p. 162. 

t In my youth I remember an old man who was believed to be a 
Sebastianist, but he may have had as much madness as Sebastianism 
in his composition, He used to wander up and down the Province 
of the Minho, and into Galicia, and sit upon a rock, gazing out sea- 
ward for the coming of the fleet of Don Sebastian. Such faith 
certainly might have removed a chain of mountains, but did not, as 
far as 1 know, bring the King into his own again. However, the 
poor old Sebastianist, no doubt, had his reward, for faith is the best 
anodyne to common sense—that common sense which makes the 
world a desert to Sebastianists. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 41 


and often joined in aerial battles with Christian 
paladins, were but as commonplaces in their lives. 
The werwolf (Lobis-Homen), the evening sprite (O 
tardo), and the rest of the remains of Pagan polytheism, 
played a great part amongst the peasants of the 
Minho, and the Traz os Montes, as they do even to- 
day, imbuing them with mysticism, superstition, or 
primitive religion, according to the point of view from 
which they are approached. 

Nor were the negroes much behind them. Their 
child-like, bloody creeds, indeed, took a far different 
complexion. For them, as with some Christian sects, 
the blood was everything, and they would well have 
understood the Scottish minister of a bygone age who 
said, “If ye tak’ out the blood from it, I would na’ 
tak’ the trouble of carrying the Book home.” 

The Hausa negroes, in Bahia, added to the 
Christian creed the Jorubana ritual, and introduced 
their fetish worship into the services of the Church, 
just as in Haiti, Santo Domingo, and some say even in 
Jamaica, Obi and Voodoo worship still prevail amongst 
the negroes on the sly. Those who have seen their 
agapemones in which after a religious service they 
abandon themselves to all the licence of the phallic 
dance at their Candombles, can testify how well 
adapted are they for all kinds of religious mania, 
enthusiasm, revivalism, or anything that puts them into 
that state of excitation of the senses in which the 
mind ceases to work or works subservient to the 
nerves. In Pajehu, a district in the State of Pernam- 
buco, there stands a mountain in the range known as 
the Serra Talhada, which dominates the country for 


42 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


miles on every side. A grey, granitic mass, it has 
something majestic in its appearance, towering up 
from the plain. In it there is an isolated block, 
shaped something like a pulpit, known as A Pedra 
Bonita—that is, the Pretty Stone. This place in 1837 
was the theatre of scenes which recall all the worst 
atrocities of the Ashantis, in their devil worship.* In 
1837 a Cafuz, some say a Mamaluco, but anyhow 
a religious monomaniac, what is called an Illuminado 
in Portuguese, and in Spanish an Alumbrado, col- 
lected most of the population of the neighbouring 
villages. Who he was isstill uncertain, but evidently 
he was possessed of what is requisite on such occasions 
—faith in himself and an interminable flow of words. 
It is possible his faith was genuine, for who shall 
judge the heart? Of one thing there can be no doubt: 
his sermons were interminable. Mounting upon the 
block of stone, he stood, a new world, John of Leyden, 
preaching the coming of the King Don Sebastian, he 
who fell at the field of Alcazar-el-Kebir. He fore- 
told that the stone should be cut into steps; not cut 
with any earthly tools, but smoothed away by the 
shedding of the blood of children. Up these steps, so 
miraculously to be prepared, surrounded by his guard 
of honour, dressed in armour, the King, who had been 
dead three hundred years, should ascend and come 
into his own again, reigning in Portugal and in Brazil, 
and bountifully rewarding those who had been faithful 
to him, and by their faith contributed to his dis- 
enchantment. No more was wanted; the whole 


* Euclydes da Cunha describes it in his book, ‘ Os Sertoés,” Rio 
de Janeiro, 1917. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 43 


Sertdo, from Pajehu right to the Rio das Egoas, in 
Pernambuco, Piauhy, Bahia and Ceara, was all 
convulsed. A nervous agitation seemed to com- 
municate itself to everybody. The rude Vaqueiros, 
all dressed in leather, with their stiff coats made of 
deer’s hide, their long hard leggings, and their low 
round hats, giving them an air of medieval men-at- 
arms, arrived from every side. Mounted upon their 
fiery little horses, and riding at the medieval amble 
—which is so easy that the rider may carry in his hand 
a glass of water and spill no drop of it—bearing their 
flint-lock wide-mouthed Bacamortes across their 
saddles, girt with a rusty sword, or with the long, 
sharp-pointed knife they call a jacaré,* or faca de 
Parnyba stuck in their sashes, they came, and then 
sat sideways on their horses listening to the preacher, 
and believed. Belief with them was easy as it so often 
is if the thing to be believed is unbelievable. Negroes 
and half-castes of all shades of colour, Indians, Cafuces, 
Mamalucos, Caboclos, and men of every one of the 
bewildering shades of colour, flocked to the Pretty 
Stone. A multitude of women, all a prey to the 
mysterious agitation which in such cases, whether 
at revivals in Port Glasgow, camp meetings in 
the United States, or pilgrimages to holy places in 
Calabria, seems to transform them, making them just 
as irresponsible as the Bacchantes of the older world, 
came through the mountain passes, followed the trails 
through virgin forests and assembled to hear the word 


* Jacaré is a Guarani word, and means alligator, aca de 
Parnhyba= knife from Parnhyba. A blunderbuss in Portuguese is 
called a “ Bracamorte,” 


44. LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


preached at the wondrous pulpit made by no earthly 
hands. Unluckily they brought their children with 
them. Then, roused to a religious frenzy beyond 
belief, as they stood listening to the words of the 
illuminated Cafuz or Mamaluco—for history has not 
preserved his name—women strove with one another 
who should be the first to offer up her child, so that 
its blood should split the rock and form the sacred 
stair, by which the King, the long lamented Don 
Sebastian, should ascend in glory, bringing back peace 
and plenty upon earth. 

A common-sense but accurate historian* says that 
for days the rocks ran blood. This man, devoid of 
faith and quite incapable of rising to the comprehen- 
sion of heights to which the Cafuz (or Mamaluco) 
had transported his rapt hearers, informs us when the 
** lugubrious farce” was over that so great was the 
quantity of blood shed by the faithful the place 
became pestiferous and had to be deserted, until a 
purifying Nature worked a cure upon it. The events 
which happened at A Pedra Bonita were perhaps the 
most appalling of any in the history of Brazil; but 
long before that, in the seventeenth century, in the 
mountain chain of Piquaraca near Jacobina, in Bahia, 
a missionary, one Apollonio de Todi, coming from a 
mission in the north, was so much struck with the 
resemblance of the mountain to Mount Calvary that 
he resolved to build a chapel there. Luckily for the 


children of those times the missionary was neither 


* Araripe Junior, in his Reino Encantado.” 
t “ Lugubre farga” is the term used by Euclydes da Cunha, in 
his description of the sacrifice in his book “ Os Sertoés,” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 45 


a Cafuz or Mamaluco, but only a well-meaning, 
visionary friar. His first proceeding was to change 
the name Piquaraca to Monte Santo. Then, preach- 
ing to the rude Sertanejos, he stirred them up, not 
to the pitch of human sacrifice, but to assist him in 
his scheme. So well he worked, and so well was he 
seconded by the impressionable folk of the Sertao, that 
in a short time on the summit of the highest peak an 
enormous church was built. 

Up to it, cut out of the solid rock, this time with 
ordinary picks and shovels, a Via Sacra of three kilo- 
metres led, with five-and-twenty little oratories as 
stations of the cross. Nothing was wanted but a 
miracle to make the place respectable and to bring 
pilgrims to it from all the country round. The 
faithful Sertanejos had not long to wait, for in due 
course some mystic letters of gigantic size, an A, an 
L and S, topped by a cross, were found cut in the 
rock. 

The Sertanejos did the rest, throwing their faith 
and simple piety into the common stock; thus Monte 
Santo soon became renowned. 

In Holy Week, when from remote villages in the 
Sertiéio the Vaqueiros and their families crowd to the 
holy fair, the scene recalls the Middle Ages. Such 
orgasms of piety, such wild intensity of faith, are 
rarely to be seen in a world where the educated turn 
for their spiritual consolation rather to crystal-gazing 
or to palmistry than to such vulgar superstitions as 
satisfy the simple herdsmen of the Sertdo. 

The scene is marvellous, with its myriad camp fires, 
its herds of horses grazing loose or picketed, the 


46 LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 


strange, old-fashioned, medieval types of men, and the 
vast panorama extending over leagues of mountains, 
oceans of tropic forest, and with the glittering sea in 
the far distance, its surf-lashed beach encircled round 
by palms. Preacher succeeds to preacher, and under 
the wild eloquence of some illuminated friar, or inspired 
herdsman, by degrees excitement stirs the multitude 
into an excess of pious fervour, that recalls scenes that 
took place when first the faith was spread amongst the 
Gentiles, or when Mohammed stirred the souls of the 
rude Arabs in the wilds of the Hejaz. 

The friar Apollonio had no successor of like genius 
with himself, although at intervals some Mamaluco or 
Cafuz arises and strives to emulate him. 

The last and greatest of them all was that Antonio 
Conselheiro whose life and miracles, as the phrase 
goes in Lives of saints, I hope this Introduction may 
explain, or at least make possible of comprehension to 
those who never heard of him, or of the curious region 
where he lived, preached, and succeeded for a brief 
interval, and then, having set up for a redeemer, as 
the Castilian bitter saying has it, met the redeemer’s 
fate. 


CHAPTER I 


In 1889, when the Emperor Don Pedro II. gave up 
his throne and the republic was proclaimed, it was 
inevitable that in remote and medieval districts, such 
as the Sertao, there would be still left many, hostile to 
the new form of government. 

Not only were the new ideas repugnant to them, 
but they were almost incomprehensible to men who, 
though the actual government was never very manifest 
to them in their daily lives, still held the patriarchal 
theory of life in its entirety. 

It is not to be supposed they had any excessive 
loyalty towards Don Pedro as a man ; but they most 
probably conceived him as something indispensable. 
Just as their priests looked to the Pope as their 
spiritual head and chief, without, in the Sertdo, 
troubling a great deal as to his existence, so did the 
Sertanejos look upon their Emperor. The priests, 
moreover, would be certain to inculcate in them a 
respect for monarchy, partly from personal, partly from 
ecclesiastical feelings of use and wont. The Church, 
we know, adapts itself to every form of government, 
seeing at once that if it can bend or enslave (according 
to the reader’s point of view) the mind, all the rest is 
merely leather and prunella, and that the republican 

47 


48 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


may contribute to the offertory as freely as the best 
believer in the Divine right of kings. 

This feeling of uneasiness in regard to the new 
government, the mysticism of the people as shown in 
the belief in the return to earth of Don Sebastian, and 
the fear that the republic meant the destruction of all 
religion, tended to make the dwellers in the Sertaio 
especially susceptible to any movement, religious or 
political alike, during the time between the abdication 
of the Emperor and the firm establishment of the new 
government. Out of the depths of superstition and of 
violence, Antonio Conselheiro arose to plunge the 
whole Sertdo into an erethism of religious mania and 
of blood. 

His ancestors were men of violence, although no 
doubt fervent believers ; subservient to their priests ; 
singers of “novenas” in their houses, honourers of 
their fathers and their mothers, and in fact not much 
unlike the Scottish Highlanders of the sixteenth 
century, except that they were far more fervent 
in their faith. ‘To complete the likeness, the 
Emperor’s writ had as little force in the Sertao as had 
the King’s beyond the Pass of Aberfoyle in the days 
of Rob Roy. 

Though in Bahia modern life was well established, 
with telegraphs and telephones and public lighting ot 
the streets and tramways only two hundred miles 
away, these things were quite unknown and almost 
unsuspected by the ordinary man. The Sertanejo 
when he went to town—and town to him was not 
Bahia, but Joazeiro, Jacobina, Queimadas, or some 
other little local centre—passed his sword between his 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 49 


saddle girths, and either wore a pair of antique pistols 
at his saddle bow, or carried in his hand a flintlock 
blunderbuss. He never stirred from home except 
armed to the teeth, and even in his home, when he put 
on his hat, he also stuck his ‘“‘ jacaré’”’* into his belt. 

So was the Highlander of old a being distinct from 
any Lowlander by the fact of always going armed. 
As Addison and Rob Roy McGregor flourished at the 
same time, so did Antonio Conselheiro and the 
scientific Emperor, Don Pedro de Alcantara, pursue 
their differing avocations at the same moment, in 
Brazil. As often happens in back-lying+ districts, 
powerful families pursued their feuds, and levied war 
upon each other. Such was the custom up to the 
other day, in Western Texas, Kentucky, in Calabria, 
in the Province of Valencia in Spain, and in Corsica. 
Although the Sert&éo extends to several States of the 
Republic of Brazil, as Bahia, Pernambuco, Ceara and 
Piauhy, the customs are identical in all the States, 
and the Sertanejo rather looks upon himself as such, 
than as an inhabitant of the different provinces. Thus, 
in the Sertéo of Ceara in the wild districts that lie 
between Quixeramobim and Tamboril, the families of 
the Maciel and Araujos kept all the country in con- 
fusion with their feuds. Antonio Conselheiro sprang 
from the family of Maciel. 

The Macielst were poor but numerous, and main- 
tained themselves by cattle-raising upon a minor scale. 
They seem to have been also small landowners, and, as 

* Long knife. Literally, “alligator””—from the Guarani word 
meaning an alligator. 

Tt This Scottism avoids the odious German “ hinterland.” 


t “Maciel,” plural “ Macieis” in Portuguese. 
4 


50 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


contemporaries aver, all of them active and athletic men, 
living the ordinary life of the Vaqueiros, dressing in 
leather and always going armed, The Araujos presum- 
ably were but little superior to them in education 
and in culture. Their daily life was similar to 
that of the Maciels—their dress, their habit of always 
carrying arms, and their religious faith. ‘The difference 
was in their possessions, for the Araujos clan were 
landowners and cattle-breeders on a large scale. 

Their houses probably were such as I have often 
seen throughout the country districts of Brazil. They 
stood most likely surrounded by a clump of mango or 
of orange trees, long, low and yellow, with red-tiled 
roofs such as one still can see in Brazil and in the 
remoter parts of Portugal, and dated possibly from the 
early days of the settlement of the Sertiio. Behind 
them stretched a field or two of Indian corn or man- 
dioca (known as a “ roza”’), with stumps of trees, cut 
off or burned, dotted throughout the crop. The 
Caatinga* probably came close up to the corrals for 
cows, on one side, and at the front a little plain, studded 
with stunted palms, stretched out; and on it fed their 
cattle, their mules and horses, and probably some 
goats. : 

There may have been a little grove either of 
bananas or guayabas, and a tall palm or two about 
the house. From the corrals an acrid smell would be 
wafted on the air, not disagreeable when you are used 
to it, and not unlike the smell of peat that hangs 
about a Highland shieling in the remoter glens, The 


* Bush, in Guarani, 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 51 


house itself most certainly had something Oriental in 
its configuration and its air. Passing the fence and 
the various hitching-posts where you tied up your 
horse, you came to the front door, made like a door 
in Portugal or Spain, to revolve upon a solid hinge 
stuck into a socket in the lintel—a fashion which the 
Moors had left in the Peninsula. In default of iron, 
the lock most likely was of wood, just as locks used to 
be in Fez, ten or twelve years ago. The front door 
opened to the saguan, the passage to the inner court, 
found in all ancient houses, whether in Portugal or 
Spain, or in their colonies. Rooms lay to right and 
left of the courtyard, and in them there would be two 
or three ancient leather-seated, high-backed chairs, 
around a table of hard, dark-coloured wood. Upon 
it stood a porous water-vessel with a dew exuding 
from its sides, flanked by a heavy silver cup or two. 
Six or seven Lives of saints, printed at Coimbra, 
and bound in vellum, with ties and eyelets (to 
which shells worn smooth by handling acted as 
buttons), together with a Book of Hours, would 
form the library. 

Two or three negro slaves and a dozen yellow 
dogs were certain to be lounging near the front door, 
or just outside the fence. To complete the Oriental 
air, you might have stayed a week within the house 
and never seen the women, although you heard them 
and felt certain that they had reconnoitred you a 
hundred times, through holes you could not see. 

The Araujos, or any family who owned a house 
such as that I have just described, would live in 
homely style, but plentifully. Their flocks and herds, 


52 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


with their tilled fields and groves of oranges and of 
bananas, provided them with food. Food was abun- 
dant, if not luxurious, for every now and then they 
killed a bullock, drying the best part of the meat in 
long, thin strips, which was called “ charqui” in the 
plains, and in the Sertdo “carne do vento,” which 
literally means “wind meat,” or meat dried in the 
wind. ‘This meat dried in the sun or wind is not un- 
palatable when fried or done up in a stew that the 
Brazilians call “angu,” composed of charqui and of 
rice with bits of pumpkin on the top of it. The 
whole is piled up in a pyramid upon the dish, and 
looks a little like the stews used by the Moors through- 
out North Africa. ‘The men assembled in the dining- 
room and sat about a long, rough table in patriarchal 
style, the elders at the top. Mulatto girls, with their 
chemises slipping off their shoulders and shoes like 
those worn by the Moors that slap upon the ground 
with the movement of the foot, bore in the dinner, 
carrying it high above their heads in platters made 
of earthenware or wood, or perhaps silver in the 
richer families. The stew discussed, black beans and 
bacon followed; this dish is called “ feijio,” and takes 
the place that porridge does in Scotland, the soup in 
France, or macaroni with Italians, in every household 
in Brazil. Fine mandioca flour is powdered over it 
to make it thicker and more palatable. This flour is 
often called “‘farinha do pfo,” that is, the flour of 
wood, and tastes like sawdust to palates not attuned 
to it, but is most nourishing. After the beans and 
bacon and the stew, rice boiled in milk and 
powdered thick with cinnamon was served, just as 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 53 


day follows night, and quite as certainly. Sometimes 
this would be varied by “ cangica,” that is, maize boiled 
in milk, held a great delicacy, and so much appreciated 
in Brazil that country people have a saying, “ Cangica 
knocks out every kind of dish.”* When all was over, 
home-made cigars or cigarettes, rolled in the husks of 
corn, were lighted, and a girl came in carrying a silver 
basin full of water and a long towel with fringed ends 
to dry the hands upon, after they were washed in 
Oriental style by pouring water upon them. Strong 
native coffee and “‘ cachaza,” that is, white rum made 
from the sugar-cane, most probably at home, would 
finish the repast. Then the guests would retire each 
to his hamac for the siesta, which occupied an hour 
or two. After the evening meal, they all assembled 
to sing the Rosary, and then retired to rest. If in the 
morning after you got up (always at daylight) you 
met a negro either in the passages or just outside the 
door, he seized your hand and kissed it, or asked your 
blessing, which you bestowed as solemnly as possible; 
for to have refused would have been a dire offence, 
both to the man himself and to good manners; and 
on good manners the older generation of Brazilians, 
so to speak, built their Church. 

Few flowers were grown, except in the richest 
houses, and even then they generally were the Marvel 
of Peru, or some luxuriant creeper that climbed upon 
the walls. Pumpkins were the chief vegetables 
upon the cattle farms, though near the coast they 
were more plentiful, as sweet potatoes, okross, and 
many others, familiar to Brazil. 


* “A cangica borra Todo.” 


54 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


These patriarchal folk, though they lived simply, 
were full of pride of race and family, and kept a hold 
upon the local magistracy with a grip of iron. Thus 
when the Araujos found their ascendancy was not 
acknowledged by the Maciels, their fury knew no 
bounds. 

Colonel Jodo Brigido dos Santos has left us an 
account of how the feud began, and it is interesting as 
it serves to show from what stock Antonio Conselheiro 
sprang. In the fashion of most of these clan 
feuds, whether in the Scottish Highlands of old or 
elsewhere, the carrying off of cattle furnished the first 
excuse. 

Colonel dos Santos describes the heads of the family 
of Maciel as “ vigorous and sympathetic men, of good 
appearance, truthful and serviceable,” and hints that 
the accusations brought against them by the Araujos 
were not based on proofs, but merely formed a 
pretext, and that the real reason of their enmity was 
that the Maciels, though poor, contested,the supremacy 
of the richer family. That may have been ; but what 
is certain is that the Araujos for real or fancied 
wrongs got all their clan together and fell upon their 
foes. Contrary to general expectation, they were 
repulsed with loss. 

The Maciels had gathered all their partisans and 
were prepared to carry fire and sword into the terri- 
tories of the enemy. As all this happened in 1833, it 
gives a picture of the life in the Sertdo at that time, and 
is identical with that upon the Scottish border in the 
days of JamesI. Substitute Johnstone and Jardine for 
Araujo and Maciel, and take the scene from the 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 55 


drought-cursed Sertdo to the damp wilds of Durisdeer 
or Annandale, and the resemblance is complete. 

The Araujos, after their defeat, a prey to rage and 
disappointment, and either fearing or being unwilling 
to engage in further open strife, looked about for men 
to whom to delegate their vengeance and their hate. 
Such men are never hard to find, even to-day, in the 
Sertio. 

José Joaquin de Menezes, a man from Pernambuco, 
renowned for deeds of violence and blood, and a well- 
known bravo, one Vicente Lopes of Aracaguassu, 
offered their services. These rascals, under the 
leadership of a certain Sylvestre Rodrigues Veras, a 
relation of Araujo da Costa, chief of the clan, collected 
all their friends and followers and fell upon their 
enemies by night. They stealthily surrounded the 
house where lived the chief of the Maciels. As all 
resistance was impossible, the Araujos sent in a man 
to say that they would spare the lives of the Maciels 
if they surrendered without fight.. They, taken by 
surprise, agreed, after they had secured a promise of 
their lives. As was to be expected, the promise was 
not kept. At the end of the first day’s journey, the 
prisoners were murdered in cold blood. Amongst 
them was Antonio Maciel, the headman of his clan. 
This man was a grandfather of Antonio Conselheiro, 
and appears to have been quite innocent of the cattle 
robberies of which he was accused. So, at least, says 
Manoel Ximenes in his “ Memorias,” almost the only 
documentary evidence of these curious events that has 
been preserved to us. 

Antonio’s uncle, Miguel Carlos, managed to escape. 


56 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Bound as he was and with his legs secured under his 
horse’s belly, his flight seems difficult to account for, 
unless, as happened to Rob Roy McGregor in a like 
plight, he had a friend amongst his adversaries to 
untie his bonds for him. 

Whether this was the case or not, one thing is 
certain, that the pursuit of him was instant and 
well sustained. The pursuers all were mounted on 
their best horses, and all were men accustomed to 
every phase of frontier life. As I have heard a 
tracker in the upper provinces of the Argentine 
Republic say of himself, to them ‘ the desert was an 
open book.” Most likely all of them could follow up 
a trail at a short “lope,” without dismounting, when it 
ran clear on open ground. To such men, all spurred on 
by hope of vengeance and by hate, the capture of the 
fugitive was a certainty. He, having been joined by 
his sister, as good a frontierman as he himself, and 
a skilled markswoman, employed all the ruses of a 
hunted man upon the frontier. The brother and 
sister waded down streams, turned back upon the 
trail, confused it by treading in each other’s footsteps, 
and by dragging boughs in their hands behind them. 
They fired the grass in front of them and crossed the 
burnt up patches, stepping on stones and branches of 
burnt trees. All was in vain; at last, exhausted, they 
hid themselves in a deserted hut. 

In a short time their enemies appeared like hounds 
on a hot scent. Day was just breaking, when the 
intrepid brother and sister stood at bay, determining to 
sell their lives at the best price. 

Miguel Carlos was wounded in the foot. In spite 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 57 


of that, with his gun in his hand and a sharp-pointed 
knife between his teeth, he stood before his sister in 
the door to face his enemies. His first shot killed one 
Theotonio, whose body fell against the open door, 
preventing it from being closed. As she was struggling 
to close it, and drag away the body of the dead man, the 
sister fell, pierced by a bullet in the breast. Then 
Pedro Veras, the leader of the attacking party, rushed 
forward, only to fall pierced by a load of slugs fired 
from a blunderbuss from the inside of the hut. This 
gave Miguel Carlos a moment’s respite, which he 
took full advantage of, maintaining a hot fire. The 
next act was that to be expected in a frontier fight 
—the attackers managed to set the roof on fire. 

The man inside, now rendered desperate, also 
recurred to an old frontier ruse. Filling an earthen 
jar with water, he dashed it on the flames. Immedi- 
ately a dense steam arose. Covered by it, and firing 
as he ran, his knife in his left hand, he sprang across 
the body of his sister, and bounding through the 
circle of his foes, disappeared into the woods. Either 
the besiegers had had enough of slaughter, or 
Miguel Carlos Maciel had covered up his tracks so 
well that they did not pursue him, but if they did they 
failed to find his trail. It may be that they held him 
not worthy of pursuit, as a mere “Pe Rapado,” literally 
a shaven foot, or vagabond, not able to do harm. 

In this they were deceived, for some months after- 
wards, one of the Araujo family on his way to church 
to marry a rich lady of those parts fell mortally 
wounded by a bullet, fired from an ambush by Miguel 


Carlos, who thus avenged his sister and his friends. 


58 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Another sister, Helena Maciel, then joined him and 
was invaluable to him by giving due notice of his 
enemies’ designs. 

Brother and sister lived hidden in the woods, 
although at times they came out boldly and killed or. 
tried to kill such of their enemies as exposed them- 
selves. On one occasion, in a little country store, 
Miguel Carlos met a man who he suspected was a 
spy set on him by his enemies. He instantly made 
friends with him, and as they rode out of the town, at 
the first corner, Miguel Carlos buried a knife between 
his shoulders and left him dead upon the road. 

Innumerable were the adventures and crimes in 
which Miguel Carlos and his sister were involved, but 
as the swimmer in the end is always taken by the sea 
—at least, so says the Arab proverb—his fate was 
certain, in such a place as the Sertdo. 

One day he went to bathe in a stream near a little 
town called Cotovello, accompanied by several of his 
friends. After their bathe they sat down on the sand 
to dress themselves, when suddenly out of a thicket of 
tall reeds appeared a band of the Araujos, who opened 
fire upon them. His friends, seizing their clothes, 
plunged into the thickest of the reeds, leaving Miguel 
Carlos alone upon the beach. 

Dressed only in his drawers and with a knife held 
in his hand, he ran towards a house amidst a shower 
of bullets, which all missed their mark. He reached 
the house, opened the door, and fell mortally wounded, 
but still holding fast his knife. One Manoel de 
Araujo, chief of the band of murderers, stabbed him as 
he lay. With his last breath Miguel Carlos bounded 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 59 


to his feet, and buried his knife deep in his adversary’s 
throat. 

The two fell dead, one on the other, and Helena 
Maciel, rushing up fully armed, stamped on the face of 
her brother’s murderer and managed to escape. For 
long she ranged the country like a fury, and once more 
murdered another victim to avenge her brother’s 
death. This was the last of her exploits, and this time 
she did not execute her vengeance personally, but left 
it to a band of paid assassins, who fell upon a relation 
of the Araujos and beat him so barbarously that he 
died. Helena appears to have been satisfied that she 
had done enough, and lived quite unmolested to a good 
old age. 

The quarrel still went on, and the two families for 
many years slaughtered each other quite impartially. 
One of the few survivors was Vicente Mendes 
Maciel, father of Antonio Conselheiro, who does not 
appear to have been engaged in following up the 
feud. 

Colonel Jodo Brigido* describes him as an irascible 
man, but of great probity, half a visionary and sus- 
picious in the extreme. He must have been a man 
of some capacity, though quite illiterate, in spite of 
which he entered largely into business, keeping 
all his accounts and records of his affairs by memory, 
as he could neither read nor write nor had the slightest 
knowledge of arithmetic. In such surroundings did 
the young Antonio Mendes Maciel grow up, seeing on 
every side of him deeds of violence and blood. The 
country where he lived was certainly a curious school 


* “Crimes celebres do Ceara. Os Araujos e Macieis.” 


60 LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 


for a young man, such as he was, to have been born 
into. His uncles all had been concerned in the 
fierce feud with the Araujos, and thus no doubt 
he imbibed a hatred of the rich. Some of his 
nearest relatives had fallen in the feud, and so his 
earliest recollections must have been tinged with 
thoughts of vengeance. At the same time, most of 
the combatants, upon both sides, were probably men 
imbued with deep religious feelings, of a peculiar 
kind. They all believed in omens, and in a way were 
mystics, or at the least were visionaries, seeing super- 
natural intervention in natural events, and with the 
names of Jesus and the saints always upon their lips. 

All this prepared him, without doubt, for a life 
singularly unlike that of a man born in the nineteenth 
century. His education was superior to that of his 
relations, received most likely from the priests, who 
certainly would inculcate hatred of republican ideas, 
fealty to monarchy, and a regard to old traditions of 
whatever kind they were. His reading certainly was 
confined to Lives of saints, books on religion, and the 
breviary. 

Sebastianism he found in the air of the Sertdo. 
Nobody questioned it, and the whole life he led drew 
him to mysticism. All seems to have worked to- 
gether to prepare a man certain to be remarkable in 
the Sertiéio, when once he had emerged from his 
obscurity. 


CHAPTER II 


ANTONIO VicenTE Menpes Maciert was born in 
the Sertio of Ceara in a little town called Quixer- 
amobim, somewhere about the year 1842; but the 
date is not known with certainty. The sobriquet of 
Conselheiro (the Councillor) he acquired in later 
years, after he had risen to fame in the Sertio. 

He seems to have been well educated, that is to say 
in relation to the circumstances in which he was 
brought up. Like many men destined in after life 
to prominence amongst their fellows, he was a timid 
and retiring youth, averse from mixing with his play- 
mates and with other boys. His father employed him 
as a cashier or manager in his store at Quixeramobim, 
and he appears rarely to have left the paternal home, 
where he discharged his duties with fidelity and care. 

The irascibility of his father never seems to have 
manifested itself in the son’s character, in his quiet 
youth, or in the stirring scenes which he was destined 
to take part in during his chequered life. On the 
contrary, his temper seems to have been quite im- 
perturbable, steadfast and quiet, with a good share of 
the inevitable obstinacy with which all martyrs must 
be plentifully endowed. 


Although he surely must have heard his father 
61 


62 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


talking with his friends about the tragic history of the 
family a thousand times, Antonio Maciel does not 
appear to have been affected in the least by it, as 
far as it is known. He bore the character of a 
retiring youth, occupied solely with his father’s 
business affairs. His days passed at the desk, and 
nothing seems to have preoccupied him, except the 
care of his three sisters, left, by his father’s death in 
1855, entirely in his charge. 

Imagination pictures him, dressed in drill trousers 
and an alpaca coat, seated absorbed with the small 
details of a village store, his recreations a walk 
round the plaza in the evening, or a rare visit, on a 
pacing mule, to a country neighbour a league or 
two away. 

His real life most certainly was of the spirit ; and 
in the little church, built of adobe, with its little 
bell-cote over the east door, no doubt he knelt for 
hours in ecstasy before the “Bom Jesus,” His 
«© Blessed Mother,” or ‘‘San Antonio,” that sainted 
son of Portugal. He would be sure to turn up at 
any neighbours house during “novenas” and sing 
the hymns with fervency, and in his home never 
forget the rosary before he went to bed. 

Life in a small Brazilian town leaves ample time 
for contemplation, and no doubt when any preaching 
friar came round upon a mission, the quiet and retir- 
ing storekeeper was at his ministrations, hanging on 
his words. ‘The town itself afforded but few recrea- 
tions, and they were not the kind of recreation that 
would have attracted him. A cock-fight on a Sunday, 
and now and then what was called an “ encamisada,” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 63 


when the young men, mounted on their best horses, 
fought a mock combat, with one side dressed in white 
to represent the Moors, a medieval custom brought 
from Portugal, were the amusements of the place, 
descended from old times. Sometimes they must have 
ridden at the ring on holidays; but this was not a 
sport in which the introspective, self-absorbed young 
man would have been likely to engage. 

Nothing, up to the year 1858, gave any sign that the 
careful storekeeper would be called upon to play the 
part that fate had destined for him on his remote and 
lonely stage. No doubt the blood of his wild family 
but slumbered, and though it never manifested itself 
in the same fashion as it did with his uncles and his 
grandfather, the taint was certain to appear. 

His marriage in the year 1858 transformed him 
utterly. The habits of a quiet life were thrown aside, 
and he embarked on a career of wandering and 
change of scene that in the end made him an 
outcast, and perhaps unhinged his mind. His wife, 
whose name history has not preserved, seems to 
have been utterly unsuited to him. Of violent 
temper and loose character, it seems impossible that 
such a sober-minded youth could have fallen in love 
with her, except, perhaps, in the same way that an 
old maid is sometimes taken with a rake. Her very 
difference from himself may have attracted him. 

From the first, his wife seems to have indulged in 
love affairs. Time after time he pardoned her. It 
was no use, for, as the Spanish proverb has it, the 
she goat will be off into the woods.* 


* “Tia Cabra tira al monte,”’ 


64. LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Whether to take his wife away from evil company, 
or because of the notoriety attaching to her excursions 
into the realms of Cytherea, Antonio Maciel left the 
paternal store and town in 1859, and went to a town 
called Sobral, where once again he found employment 
as acashier. ‘There for a time he duly entered sacks 
of black beans and mandioca flour, tobacco and jerked 
beef, hogsheads of sugar and of rum, with bits and 
bridles, saddles, powder, and all the usual items of a 
Brazilian store, in the ledger, and no doubt balanced 
his accounts to the last copper fraction of a milrei,* 
or even a testoon. 

He stayed but little in Sobral, and went on to an- 
other place called Campo Grande. From thence he 
passed on to Ipu, another little town in the Sertio of 
Ceara. There he acted as a lawyer’s clerk, but did 
not stay long in the place. He had the opportunity 
of entering into politics in Ipu, as his employers were 
agents for one of the parties who aspired, as parties 
do both in Brazil and in Great Britain, to be the 
saviours of the State. 

At this time, however, Antonio Maciel, not yet 
advanced to the dignity of “ Conselheiro,” seems to 
have been more anxious about the welfare of his own 
soul than of the welfare of the body politic. Instant 
in church and at confession, he seems to have been an 
ardent Catholic. 


* Milrei, literally 1,000 reis. ‘The coin equals a dollar, more or 
less. The first time that a bill is handed you in reis, it takes the 
breath away, for it may easily run to several thousands, and the 
receiver of it wonders if his bank account can stand the strain of it. 
It has its compensation in the feeling of magnificence it superinduces, 
just as one feels richer after reading of a lakh of rupees. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 65 


In Ipu he received the blow that altered all his way 
of life, and in the end led him into the paths that 
made him celebrated. His wife, who, as a chronicler 
of his life and miracles opines, had hitherto been con- 
tent with besmirching his household gods,* now left 
these Lares once for all behind her and went off with 
an officer of the police. 

Antonio Maciel, who was above all things honest 
and regular in his life, was overwhelmed with shame. 
It may be that the dishonest action of the Paphian 
police official inspired him with distrust. of law and 
order as a whole ; but from that time, at any rate, his 
outlook on the world was altered and his whole life 
was changed. 

His first idea was to hide his head where he was 
quite unknown, so he went off to the south of Ceara. 
There fate, in a place called Pados Brancos, threw him 
in the way of the disturber of his household peace. 
Not recognising that the seducer of his wife had done 
him a great service in taking off with him a woman 
who, in the speech of the Sertéo, was common as the 
hens, the blood of his wild family boiled up in his 
veins. The careful store-keeper, the approved com- 
municant, became, for the first and last time in his life, 
a true descendant of the fierce partisans whose exploits 
terminated with the grim death of Miguel Carlos 
Maciel. Not able to put his hand on the seducer, he 
lay wait by night for a relation who had sheltered 
him, attacking him with all the fury of a jaguar 
robbed of its whelps. The victim of the assault, at 
the trial of Antonio Maciel, did all he could to save 


* “ Manché seus Lares,” Euclydes da Cunha os Sertdos. 
5 


66 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


him, alleging that the injured husband was quite 
within his rights. This sign of grace so character- 
istic of a primitive, recognised that the motive, not 
the mere action, is what really matters in a deed of 
any kind—at least to theologians—and in a way 
places the simple dwellers in the Sertao far above men 
who walk surrounded by the trammels of the town, 
and can see nothing but results. 

His generosity did not save Antonio Maciel, who 
was consigned to prison on the spot. Prisons in 
country districts of Brazil, and generally of South 
America, are not the places that we know in Europe, 
brutally bare, silent and soul-breaking, but partake 
more of the Oriental pattern, wherein the prisoner 
lies in chains and filth, but can still talk and see his 
friends when they appear to bring him food. The 
European prison kills the soul, the dungeon in the 
East leaves the soul free, but breaks the body, and so 
mankind is justified of works. 

Not seldom, in the Americas, the gaol is built of 
sun-baked bricks, easily pierced through with a knife. 
The prisoners, unlike their Eastern colleagues, are 
seldom chained or bound, and thus escapes are frequent, 
and are often looked upon asa relief by those who 
have to guard the malefactors. Antonio Maciel was 
not for long an inmate of the “ calaboose,”* but soon 
escaped, and after being recognised upon the road toa 
place called Crato, finally disappeared, and left no 
trace of his existence in the world of the Sertdo. 

Ten years had passed, and the quiet cashier and 
outraged husband was as forgotten as if he had been 


* Calabougo. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 67 


bound to shrivel up in the dry soil of the Sertdo. He 
vanished as completely as a stone sinks out of sight in 
the pitch lake of Trinidad. 

Nature in Brazil is so tremendous, not cut in 
squares and utterly subdued and tamed as here in 
Europe ; it is so overpowering in its strength that it 
reduces man to the proportions of an ant, busy, but 
futile in his enterprises against her immensity. A house 
decays and falls, and in a year or two the house itself 
and the few cultivated fields around it, wrung from the 
jungle with fire and axe and hoe, have disappeared. 
Over them waves a secondary jungle, swallowing 
them up, and in the course of time turning once more 
to the primeval forest, as if the force of Nature scorned 
the puny efforts of mankind. 

When a man dies he, too, is soon forgotten. His 
children scarce remember him, and their children, if 
they have heard of him at all, seem to regard him as 
an entity that lived a thousand years ago. Life, 
Nature and the vastness of the country, all give this atti- 
tude ; and so Antonio Maciel was quite forgotten, and 
the churches in the little towns, where he had prayed 
and knelt before the images of saints in ecstasy, knew 
him no more. Public opinion naturally concerned 
itself but little with a man who owed no lives,* and 
whose one poor excursion in the footsteps of his clan 
had proved infructuous. 

What he was doing, how he lived during these ten 
veiled years, that is to us unknown. Perhaps, like 
another John the Baptist, he retired into the desert, 
that forcing ground of saints. He may have lived 


* "To owe a life is to have killed a man. The debt is due to God. 


68 LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 


amongst the Indians. He himself never once unlocked 
his lips upon his wanderings. Years afterwards, when 
he was dead and gone, a faithful follower, an old 
“ Caboclo ” confessed to having seen him at rare inter- 
vals wandering about and wrapped in silence, answer- 
ing but by a gesture or a word to those who spoke to 
him. 

At any rate, after ten years, he one day reappeared 
in the State of Bahia, but wonderfully changed. The 
smug cashier, dressed carefully in white drill and clean 
straw hat, had vanished, and in his place Antonio 
Maciel appeared—an anchorite. Sunburned and worn 
with fasting, his eyes wide open, fixed and staring, 
his sunken face, and his thin limbs, worn with priva- 
tion, gave him the look of a monk from the Thebais. 
He wore no hat, and his long hair fell on his 
shoulders. His beard was rough and spread out on 
his chest, uncombed and biblical. His dress was a 
Jong shirt of coarse, blue linen, and he leaned upon 
the classic pilgrim’s staff, knotted and gnarled, but 
shiny with long use. 

Silent and unapproachable, he must have looked a 
little like a Moorish saint, sitting before a Mosque. 
He was not mad, and yet not altogether sane, but 
probably just on that borderland in which dwell 
saints and visionaries, and all those folk who feel they 
have a mission to declare, a world to save, and a vague 


Deity they have to glorify. 


CHAPTER III 


In the striking phrase of Euclydes da Cunha, his 
chief biographer, Antonio Maciel had become “ an 
old man of thirty.”’* 

His life was calculated to make him well known to 
all in the Sertdo, where news from the outside world 
is rare, and where men’s interest concentrates on local 
matters; just asin the East a wandering saint draws 
more attention to himself than the news of some great 
event abroad excites a market-place or fair. 

All is in the point of view. To some, battles and 
sieges, and to others material progress by the way 
of aeroplane, of submarine and telephone, appear the 
chiefest objects of man’s contemplation in this transitory 
life. ‘To some it is a matter of the soul, for they per- 
ceive that, after all, material progress often leaves a 
man a mere barbarian, self-satisfied and dull. 

So in the Sertado the fame of Antonio Mendes 
Maciel grew and extended. His very semi-madness 
gave him authority, marking him out as one in closer 
contact with the Deity than ordinary men. Thus, in 
the East, the actions of a madman are condoned and 
disappear in the holiness that madness wraps him in 
and separates him from the mere rational crowd com- 


* “Um velho de treinta annos.” 


69 


70 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


petent to buy and sell, to fight, intrigue, and chaffer, 
but doomed for ever, by their very sanity itself, to 
tread material ways. 

About this time his name was merged in that of 
Conselheiro, for he advised the country people as to 
their religious duties, intervened in their disputes, and 
thus became a personage throughout the district and 
far beyond its bounds. 

From the Sertao of Pernambuco he passed on to 
Sergipe, arriving at the town of Itabariana in the year 
1874. There he was quite unknown ; but the appari- 
tion in the streets of the strange figure of the hermit 
soon made a deep impression on the inhabitants. 

Along the sandy streets, which as in most Brazilian 
country towns are like the beds of dried-up brooks in 
summer, torrents in winter, he wandered silently. He 
never spoke unless he was addressed, and his appear- 
ance certainly must have been both strange and strik- 
ing as he wandered up and down. His long, blue 
gown, without a belt, made him look even thinner 
than he was and more emaciated. His pilgrim’s hat, 
which he wore generally hanging upon his shoulders, 
after the fashion of a Thessalian shepherd in classic 
times, his sandalled feet, and his wide-open staring * 
eyes, gave him the look as of a mad Messiah of the 
Oriental type. In a hide bag which dangled by his 
side, he carried paper, ink and pens, a Missal, and a 
Book of Hours.+ 

He lived entirely upon alms, rejecting all but just 
sufficient for his daily sustenance. Rarely he slept 
beneath a roof, but made his bed upon a board out in 


* Olhos fulgurantes. Tt “ As Horas Mariannas.” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 7t 


/ 
the open air, or on the ground itself. His silence, 
his long hair and beard, his abstinence, and the com- 
plete and absolute innocence of his life, soon made him 
looked upon, if not exactly as a saint, still as a man 
removed from sin and with a mission to fulfil. On 
the high pavements round the houses, at the corners 
of the streets, where in Brazil in country towns men 
congregate, their horses tied to the dark, hard-wood 
posts set for that purpose at almost every door, the 
Sertanejos lowered their voices when he passed, 
muttering, “‘ There goes the Councillor.” 

In a society, such as that of the Sert&o in the year 
1874, where men believed in the snake charmers 
known as Mandingueiros,™ in the efficacy of the Green 
Beads (‘as Contas Verdes”) brought from Africa, 
which made the wearer of a necklace invulnerable to 
bullet and to knife,a man such as Antonio Conselheiro 
soon rose to eminence. Nothing was talked of but his 
sanctity. Legends began to grow about the cures he 
wrought in cases given over by ordinary practitioners 
as quite desperate. The manner of his wanderings 
was changed. No longer did he stray about like a 
lost hound of heaven, seeking for crusts at the road- 
side. Followers had come to him quite unsolicited. 
Women of course flocked to the invisible standard 
that they perceived he had unfurled, as they have 
always flocked to any visionary. Their happiness was 
to endure all that their Christ endured. To live on 
alms, to sleep out in the open air, to bear the whips 

* The name is taken from the African tribe of the Mandingos. 
In the days of slavery, amongst the other slaves, Ju-Ju and Gri-Gri 


men had been brought over, and these continued their rites and 
superstitions in Brazil. 


72 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


and stings of fools, to have the finger pointed at them, 
as in their rags they passed along the streets, tickled 
their vanity, ministered to their pride of faith, or really 
aroused a spirit of devotion and self-sacrifice. 

Who shall sound all the mysteries of the human 
heart, or put his finger on the motives that influence 
mankind? Humble in purple, swollen with pride in 
rags ; puffed with good fortune, or steadfast against all 
the whirligigs of fate: by turns a bar of iron or a 
weathercock—each man is, has been, and will ever be, 
a mystery to his fellow-slaves chained to this moving 
sphere. The followers who flocked to Conselheiro 
were of the usual kind who at first flock to prophets 
when they first begin to preach. Herdsmen and 
paddlers of canoes, shepherds and fishermen, always 
the first to rally toa Messiah of any kind, broken to 
faith and patience as are the followers of either calling, 
formed his first converts or his sectaries. Outcasts, 
negroes, those dwellers in the two-fold Bohemia of 
poverty and colour, left the begging bowl or the 
scythe lying in the swathe, and swelled the rout of the 
faithful, to which was added a due leavening of thieves 
and of those men who in wild regions such as the 
Sertéo begin their life with a yoke of oxen, which 
gradually produce a herd. The men who kill their 
neighbours’ cattle under the shelter of the darkness, and 
sell the hide with the distinguishing brand cut out, 
came on their thin, ill-fed, indomitable horses, and 
formed a guard of rustic cavalry. All these folk, 
defeated in the strife of life, were just the kind of men 
to rally to a prophet, even though he did not preach, 
for at this time there is no evidence that Antonio 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO he: 


Conselheiro had begun that series of pronouncements 
against both the civil and the religious government 
which made him famous and eventually cost him 
his life. 

In a country such as Brazil, where the elementary 
necessaries of life are easily obtained, and in which 
everybody in the Sertdo, at least, lives upon horse- 
back, frequently sleeps out in the open air, and all fare 
frugally, such an existence, intolerable to Europeans, 
to them was bearable enough. The prophet seems to 
have had no settled object in his wanderings, but 
roamed about from town to town, village to village, 
and from camping ground to camping ground, just as 
the spirit moved him and the whim of the moment 
operated. 

His following was ever growing. Vaqueiros, dressed 
in leather, armed at all points with blunderbuss and a 
sword stuck underneath their saddle girth, the long 
sharp “faca da ponta,’* the “jacaré” or “parna- 
hyba” in their belts, and now and then a pair of 
rusty pistols with flint-locks, formed; as it were, the 
aristocracy of the new prophet’s following. The bulk 
of it was composed of half-castes, mulattoes, negroes, 
even ‘‘Caboclos,’ and the strange, simian-looking 
half-breeds betwixt the Indian and the negro known 
as Cafuces in Brazil. 

He neither asked for nor rejected followers. Pros- 
titutes, women who had deserted husbands and chil- 
dren to follow after God, others with little ones 
following at their heels as a foal follows a brood mare, 


* All these are names for different kinds of knives. 
t Tame Indians, 


74 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


even an occasional Tapuya* who had left the woods 
at the fame of Antonio Conselheiro, made up the 
motley rout. Two of his neophytes carried with 
them a little altar made of cedar-wood. In it was 
placed a rudely sculptured Christ, before whom all the 
faithful knelt at the crossings of the roads where it 
was hung upon a tree for them to see and to adore. 

They threw themselves upon the ground, beat on 
their breasts, confessed their sins in public; then, 
pure, and relieved of the black burden which the 
accumulated evil deeds of years had made intolerable, 
resumed the tenor of their lives, and once again began 
to lay up matter for a new general confession and a fresh 
start in sin. At their approach to any town or village 
they bore the altar at the head of the procession, and 
after it followed the company, all singing hymns. 

Antonio Conselheiro at this time seems not to have 
assumed the functions of a leader. He merely 
followed his ordinary life, wandering about from town 
to town with an ever-growing multitude accompany- 
ing his steps. In no other country of the world, out 
of the East, could such a strange phenomenon have 
been observed. In North America, the home of 

* ‘This is the generic name given to wild Indians. 

t The portable altar was nothing new in Brazil. Henry Koster, 
in his excellent and interesting “Travels in Brazil” (London, 1817), 
has a curious description of how certain priests, with a licence from 
their bishop, used to travel round the State of Pernambuco with a 
little altar on a pack-saddle, saying mass at the different farmhouses, 
marrying couples who had not had the opportunity of being legally 
blessed, and christening children. In my youth, I remember the 
periodical visits of a bishop in the Province of Entre Rios for the 
same purpose. He travelled in a carriage, and the more illiterate 


Gauchos were divided in opinion as to whether he was the “ Holy 
Father ” or the “ Eternal Father” himself. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 75 


strange and millenary sects, even Joseph Smith, the 
Prophet of Nauvoo, had never wandered with his 
Mormon followers about the towns of the United 
States. When forced to leave Nauvoo, the Mormons 
went off straight into the desert to found a Zion there, 
where they could live quite uncontaminated by the 
presence of the infidel. Nothing was further from 
Antonio Conselheiro’s mind. If he had wished to 
shake the dust from off his sandalled feet of the 
comparatively slight civilisation in which he moved, 
nothing could have been easier. The Vaqueiros only 
had to drive their cattle further west, and in a week 
at most lands would have been reached at least as 
fertile as the lands of the Sertao. There he could 
have set his Ebenezer up, cleared farms from the 
primeval forest, and gone on living undisturbed by 
Government. Either this never came into his head, 
or possibly he felt rather than actually knew that 
colonies set up beyond the frontiers are doomed to 
failure, or to be absorbed in the waves of advancing 
progress, civilisation, or by whatever name you like 
to call the thing. Most probably he had no fixed ideas 
at all on any subject at that time, and was driven to act 
as he did subsequently by the force of circumstances. 

In 1876 he entered the little town of Itapicuri de 
Cima with all his following. By this time his fame 
was growing and his name was beginning to be known 
outside of the Sertdéo. In 1887 a description of him as 
he appeared to ordinary eyes was printed in a journal 
of Rio de Janeiro called the Folhinha Laemmert. 
““There has appeared” (the journal said) “ in the 
Sertoés of the north a man known as Antonio 


76 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Conselheiro, who exercises a great influence upon the 
people of those parts. This is due to his mysterious 
appearance, and ascetic habits, by means of which he 
imposes on their simplicity and ignorance. His hair 
and beard are long and wild, he wears a tunic of 
blue cotton, fasts often and so rigorously that he looks 
like amummy. Accompanied by two female disciples 
[‘« duas professas” ], his life is giveniup to singing hymns 
and litanies. He preaches and gives advice to the 
crowds that follow him, where the parish priests allow 
him to hold forth. . . . Heseems intelligent, but has 
little education.” 

All this was true, and it is moreover the first 
definite account that is preserved of him, outside the 
bounds of the Sertao. Moreover, it shows that he had 
advanced a step upon his mission, for, for the first 
time, there is evidence that he had broken silence and 
begun to preach to his adepts. This was inevitable. 
A prophet who is dumb may gather fame, but 
hardly followers. Not that it is not easier far to talk 
than to refrain from talking, as parliaments can show, 
where many well-reputed men have lost their reputa- 
tion by disregarding good occasions to keep silent, and 
belching forth a speech. The little town of Itapicurt 
de Cima was the turning-point in his career. Up 
to that time the loosely constituted Government had 
looked upon him with indifference. So many 
prophets had risen up in the Sertdo, blethered a little 
(to use a Scotticism), and then fallen back into their 
well-earned obscurity, that Antonio Conselheiro had 
seemed but one of them—a star that, after twinkling 
for a brief space, would shortly disappear. Most 
Governments work in a mysterious way, performing 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 77 


such small wonders as fall within their power, either 
by violence or fraud. ‘The Government of the Sertao, 
which had its seat in the town of Bahia, chose the latter 
course, and as Antonio Conselheiro was getting to be 
feared, brought a false charge against him. Inthe same 
year (1876-1877), to the amazement of his followers, 
who knew the innocence of his life and customs, he 
was arrested suddenly and brought before a judge. 
His followers wished to defend him, for they were 
numerous and armed. He at once assumed the atti- 
tude from which he never once departed during the 
remainder of his life, that of a martyr and a stoic, 
bearing the ills of life and man’s injustice with in- 
difference. Bidding his followers to refrain from 
violence, he gave himself up into the hands of the 
authorities without resistance, and quietly went down 
with them to Bahia, to meet the charge against him. 

He had need of all his stoicism on the way, which 
to the discredit of his escort was a veritable Via Crucis 
to the man already weakened by long fastings and by 
penances. Although the soldiers beat him cruelly 
upon the journey, he did not make the least complaint 
of them when he arrived before his judge, wrapping 
himself in the stoicism of the Indian race from which 
no doubt he was descended in a more or less degree. 

One thing alone disturbed him. On arriving at 
the port where he was to embark, he asked not to be 
exposed to public curiosity, a boon he was entitled to 
by every maxim both of humanity and of the thing 
called justice, for as yet he was untried. 

Arraigned before the court, he had to listen to an un- 
just and monstrous accusation trumped up to ruin him. 
Founded upon his former troubles with his wife, he had 


78 LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 


to meet a charge of having murdered her and at the 
same time killed his own mother who was sleeping by 
her side. It was alleged that, being warned, a man 
had been seen by the neighbours to enter by a window 
to his wife’s bedroom, that he had stolen up silently 
one night and fired upon the bed without first ascer- 
taining who was there, and that the occupant had 
proved to be his mother, who for some reason or 
another was sleeping in the house. 

This charge he had no difficulty in meeting, for 
both his mother and his wife were living; so the 
authorities were forced to set him free. Silently he 
left the court, and in a month or two he reappeared 
amongst his followers, who had been waiting for him, 
and now received him in the same spirit that a band 
of Christians of the early Church would have received 
one of their leaders who had been liberated after an 
unjust charge in Rome under the Cesars. 

Nothing was wanting but the halo that persecution 
gives a man ; thus the authorities by their unjust and 
foolish conduct had changed the wandering ascetic 
into a martyr, and from that time his legend grew, 
and his fame was assured. 

His influence was doubled, and it was whispered 
that he had worked a miracle before his judges, and 
left them in the same state as Pontius Pilate, inquiring 
“What is truth ?” 

He laid no claim to supernatural powers, nor yet 
denied them ; but left his followers to spread the truth 
according as they saw it, after the fashion of a 
judicious prophet, or of a man superior to men and all 
their frailties. 


CHAPTER IV 


His reappearance in the Sertdo was the signal for a 
great outburst of rejoicing amongst his followers. In 
the town of Chorrocho he passed between a serried 
rank of his adorers wild with enthusiasm, but he 
himself unmoved, his eyes wide open, fixed on vacancy. 
His long, blue tunic gave him a look of walking in a 
shroud; his beard, which had grown almost to his 
waist in his confinement, an air as of a saint in an old 
picture. 

The “ faithful ’’ women pressed to kiss his hand and 
clothes, crossing themselves as if he really had been 
canonised. He took it all, just as he suffered rain 
and sun, hunger and blows, the unjust accusations 
and all the other miseries of life, in the same silence 
which he had maintained before the judge and his 
accusers in the court. 

In Chorrocho he lodged, or harboured, under a tree 
outside the little town. A chapel built near it still 
marks his residence. ‘The tree itself has become sacred, 
its leaves a panacea for any illness throughout the 
countryside and to the pilgrims who frequent the place. 

From that time (1878) commenced the series of 
miracles that the inhabitants of the Sertado attributed 
to him. Whether he was a party to them is 

79 


80 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


undecided, for he himself neither accepted nor denied 
the powers he was reputed to possess. At any rate, 
during the next ten years he wandered up and down, 
in Alagoinhas, Inhambuhe, Bom Conselho, Cumbe, 
Pombal, and Monte Santo, all little towns or villages, 
with a following always increasing like an avalanche. 

In all of them he left some traces of his passage, 
here raising the walls and gate of some old cemetery 
which had been left to ruin, and there repairing an 
old church or oratory. Sometimes, after his sermons, 
which, report said, were delivered with a fervour and 
conviction quite apostolic in their zeal, the rude 
Vaqueiros would collect funds to build a chapel or a 
church. Most of these still remain to witness to his 
fame and the devotion of his followers. 

In 1887 he appeared upon the coast at Villa do 
Conde and was received by a great concourse, for his 
fame had gone before him from the woods of the 
Sertao. Into the little coast town he made his entry, 
not now with one poor little altar, but with flags and 
banners, and the population bearing the statues and 
the pictures of the saints taken out from the parish 
church to swell the ceremony. For several days the 
town was crowded as if a fair were going on, and the 
despised and persecuted sectary found himself in the 
position of dictator, having thrown all the local magis- 
trates into the shade. 

His followers built booths in the central square, and 
so great was the crowd when it was known he was 
about to preach, that all the converging streets were 
strictly barricaded. A pulpit was erected, and accord- 
ing to eye-witnesses his gift of speech was wonderful 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 81 


and its effect upon his hearers no less wonderful. His 
style was barbarous, and his discourse full of citations 
from the “ Horas Mariannas,” abstruse and intricate, a 
mixture of advice to his followers with proverbs and 
familiar phrases mixed with bursts of eloquence. 

He spoke at length, with his eyes fixed upon the 
ground, with little gesture, his discourse a monotone, 
quieting and provocative of sleep. His hearers hung 
their heads, with half-closed eyes, just as the horses 
fastened outside the barricades hung down their heads 
and dozed. Then in an instant the man became trans- 
figured. He raised his head and words streamed from 
his lips, so fast his hearers scarce could follow them. 
Prophecies, denunciations, vague threats and _ hints 
succeeded one another, and his black, sparkling eyes 
became so terrible that his followers dared not look at 
him, and turned away their heads. A sob ran through 
his audience and a hysteric movement, which found 
vent in broken phrases of “ Jesus,” ““Ave Maria,” and 
“Viva, O Conselheiro!” shook the assembled crowd. 

Then it was, a cynical eye-witness has recorded, that 
he performed his real miracle, to rise above surround- 
ings almost ridiculous, and to become inspired. So 
must the Gnostics and the early Christians have 
preached to their followers and with the like results. 
In their case the enemy was Paganism and still more 
the differences between the approaching, but slightly 
separated sects, a phenomenon to be observed down to 
the present day, when the friend who will not go with 
you as far as you are going is a worse foe than is the 
common enemy of both. 


In the case of Antonio Conselheiro the enemy was 
6 


82 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


the Church, fallen, as he saw her, from her proud 
estate, and sore in need of a thorough reformation 
from within, of which the prophet was to be the 
instrument. Quite naturally the preaching friars, of 
whom a considerable store existed in Brazil, were all 
his enemies. He poached upon their province, drew 
from the country people the contributions that they 
had looked upon as their own privilege, and quite 
outdid them in the sphere of preaching which they 
considered their especial territory in the religious field. 
The doctrines and the morality that Antonio Consel- 
heiro preached were singularly like those enunciated 
by Montanus or by the Carpocratians in the second 
century. Antonio Conselheiro enjoined an exag- 
gerated chastity, thundering against marriage, and 
threatening with all the pains of hell women who 
adorned their persons, dressed their hair or made 
themselves desirable in any waytomen. ‘Those who 
continued to wear combs had crowns of thorns put on 
their heads instead, to curb their vanity. Beauty itself 
was an anathema sent upon earth by Satan for the 
undoing of mankind. Antonio himself exhibited an 
affected horror of it. He never looked a woman in 
the face when speaking to her, carrying his precautions 
to the same length even when talking to the old 
“‘beatas,”* who, as a contemporary Brazilian writer 
says, were fitted more to daunt a satyr than to excite 
concupiscence in any ordinary man. 

The doctrines that Antonio Conselheiro preached in 

* A “beata,” in Spanish and Portuguese, infers a woman given up 


to religious ceremonies and church-going. She is always dressed in 
black clothes that smell of incense. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 8 3 


the Sertéo had an extraordinary likeness to those 
advanced by several of the Gnostic sectaries, the 
same blind terror of the power of Antichrist, who 
was to reign on earth, turning all to confusion and 
setting up an empire of unreason and of blood—as 
if it wanted any Antichrist to bring about such a 
condition of affairs in an unreasonable world. The 
faithful were enjoined to abandon all their possessions 
in the face of the impending final judgment, which was 
awaited confidently and without escape. Meanwhile 
they were to give all they had in to the common 
treasury—for, by degrees, Antonio Conselheiro, though 
quite disinterested, foresaw the time when he would 
have to withdraw himself and all his followers into 
some stronghold, where the world could not defile nor 
influence his flock. 

This millenarianism, curiously enough, in the face 
of all his preaching chastity and the duty of not con- 
tinuing the race by breeding sinners to be damned 
eternally, furthered the practice of free love. It 
mattered little what men did as the world was to last 
so short a time, and thus salvation was assured by 
faith, without the mere formality of works. 

In writing of the Gnostics of the second century, 
Irenzus said: “They hold man shall not be saved by 
mere good works, but by his spiritual nature, which is 
incapable of corruption, whatever they may do ; just 
as clay cannot injure gold, so their spiritual nature 
cannot be lost by any kind of conduct.”* 

Most certainly the rude sectaries of the Sertao had 


* Treneus I., III. ff. 1. These doctrines were held also by the 
Valentinians and Simonians. 


84. LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


never reasoned out the matter, but merely followed 
out the indication of the natural theologians of every 
race and age, who, finding works a task too onerous 
for “their conversing,” fly for relief to faith. 

Antonio Conselheiro, though an unconscious Gnos- 
tic, could have known nothing of the Sophia, or held 
the belief that the principle of thought was male 
and female at the same time, as did so many of the 
Gnostic sects. Still less could he have heard any- 
thing about the Seven Worlds, dear to so many of the 
primitives ; but all the same, judged by his preaching 
and the effect it had upon his followers, he was an 
unconscious Montanist, or perhaps a Carpocratian, 
preserved miraculously, just as a mammoth is occa- 
sionally found preserved in ice, in the Siberian wilds. 
Nature, it would appear, is indestructible, preserving 
prehistoric forms and follies intact for us to wonder at, 
to imitate and copy, and to perpetuate, so that no form 
of man’s ineptitude shall ever perish, or be rendered 
unavailable for fools to promulgate. Antonio’s precepts 
were that his followers should renounce all happiness 
here in this transitory world. No doubt the “ beatas”’ 
and the more spiritual of his followers attempted to act 
up to what he preached, but many of the vagabonds 
who flocked to his tattered standard looked at things 
from another point of view, giving themselves up, as 
did the Carpocratians of old, to unrestricted fornication 
(“devant le seigneur ”) and to drunkenness. 

All principles to which men turn for assistance in 
their struggle with their lives seem greatly fallacious. 
Faith often leads straight to fanaticism, and toa dis- 
regard of works, plunging its votaries into an abyss of 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 85 


self-absorption, leaving their brethren starving in the 
mire whilst the believer saves his miserable soul. 
Good works, pursued for their own sake alone, induce 
arrogance and a self-satisfaction that shrivels up the 
soul. Logic remains; but then, again, the followers 
of Antonio Conselheiro who engaged in pious orgies 
were surely logical enough, for if the world is to end 
directly, it is best to get what we can out of it, whilst 
our life still remains. 

When faith and works, philosophy, logic, and the 
rest of the panaceas that have been preached, accepted, 
and been found wanting during the past two thousand 
years or so, have failed, all that is left to reasonable 
men is to pay bootmakers’ and tailors’ bills with regu- 
larity, give alms to the deserving and to the undeserv- 
ing poor, and then live humbly underneath the sun, 
taking example by the other animals. 

When the gift of prophecy has descended on a man, 
he can as little hide its light under a bushel as one can 
hide a cough, or love, or as a minor poet can refrain 
from troubling the public with titubating lines. 

Antonio Conselheiro was no exception to the rule, 
and he announced several years of misfortune to lead 
up to the destruction of the world. 

“In 1896,” he said, “a multitude shall come up 
from the shore to the Sertao. The Sertdo shall then 
become a sea-beach and the shore become Sertdo. In 
1898 there shall be many hats and a great scarcity of 
heads. In 1899 the waters shall be all changed. to 
blood and a planet shall appear in the East . .. a 
great fall of stars shall bring about the destruction of 
the world. In 1go00 all lights shall be extinguished. 


86 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


God says in his Holy Gospel ‘I will have but one 
fold and one shepherd . . . for I have but a single 
flock.’ ” 

These prophecies, which the declarer of them did 
not live long enough to see confirmed, were found 
after his death in the mystic city of Canudos that he 
founded, written on scraps of paper and old pocket- 
books. They were what may be styled “terre a 
terre”? prophecies, common to every vulgar self- 
ordained mystery-monger the whole world over, from 
the first dawn of Christianity. 

Antonio Conselheiro sometimes rose to greater 
heights and became interesting by the extravagance of 
his beliefs, and by the fervour of his faith. One of 
his sermons is remarkable. “ In the ninth hour, resting 
upon the Mount of Olives, one of His apostles asked 
our Lord. . . ‘ Lord, what sign wilt Thou give us, so 
that we may be ready for the destruction of the world?’ 
He answered them . . . ‘ Many signs in the Moon, 
the Sun, and in the Stars. An angel shall appear, sent 
by My Father. He shall preach at every door and 
shall establish cities in the desert, churches and 
chapels, and shall give council unto men.’” After the 
fashion of the Gnostics, he seems to have considered 
himself one with Christ, confounding, as it were, the 
persons, and the essences of each, into one body and 
one soul. So did the Gnostic preachers of the second 
century in their ecstasies. Montanus held that the 
prophet is a lyre to transmit the precepts of the Deity. 
Thus all his prophecies were delivered during ecstasy, 
a fact that the shrewd Ireneus was not slow to seize 
upon. ‘True prophets,” all the orthodox averred, 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 87 


delivered their charisma after ecstasy. Therefore the 
utterances of Montanus were not those of the Divinity. 

The point is a nice one, and would seem to apply 
not only to Montanus, but to Antonio Conselheiro ; his 
unconscious fellow-theologians will perceive at once 
that neither Montanus nor Antonio Conselheiro were 
true ecstatics; or, at least, their prophecies not having 
been digested, as it were, they were mere journalists of 
prophecy, writing of current matters as do journalists, 
and not as artists, after the events had become clarified 
by time. In fact, they fell into the category of pares- 
thetics, a trifling set of whom the world has always 
been quite worthy, just as they were worthy of the 
world. 

This did not hinder the followers both of Montanus 
and of Antonio Conselheiro from taking their utter- 
ances as the zpsissima verba of the Deity, although 
we know that this could not have been the case. 

Both prophets had one circumstance attaching to 
their lives, that made their likeness still more striking, 
for both of them were joined by two female adepts 
who had left their husbands to follow after truth. 
The coadjutors of Montanus were named Maximilla 
and Priscilla; those of Antonio Conselheiro have not 
had their names preserved. In neither case does the 
least breath of scandal tarnish their memories. 

Although Antonio Conselheiro held the doctrine of 
faith in its entirety, his practice was better than his 
belief, and, in the intervals between his sermons and 
his prophecies, he yet had time for works. All over 
the Sertao he wandered, with a crowd of carpenters and 
masons following him, who worked for nothing, 


88 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


building and renovating churches, chapels, and ceme- 
teries. His flock gave stone and wood and all the 
requisites for work, free, without charge of any kind, 
hoping perhaps to receive their reward in heaven, or, 
perhaps, from real charity and kindness, seeking no 
payment, either in this world or the next. All the 
time that the work was going on, those who were 
not employed in carrying wood or stones sang hymns ; 
their leader sat on a log of wood or on the ground, 
acting as overseer. 

A man who saw him at this date* (1887) describes 
him as “short, dark, and Indian-looking (acaboclado), 
with long hair and beard.” He says he lived at that 
time in an unfurnished house to which the “ beatas ” 
brought provisions, and waited on him. The kind of 
life he led and the part that he took in spiritual affairs, 
such as baptisms, feasts, novenas, and the like, aroused 
the jealousy both of the preaching friars and of the 
regular clergy, who found their reserves attacked by 
the unauthorised ministrations of Antonio Conselheiro 
and his excursions into a field peculiarly their own. 
They flew to arms, and looked at him, not without 
reason, just as a blackleg is regarded by a trade 
unionist. Already, in the year 1882, the Archbishop 
of Bahia had sent a circular throughout his diocese to 
all the parish priests, in which he said: “ It having 
come to my notice that one Antonio Conselheiro has 
begun preaching to the people, exhorting them to an 
excessively rigid morality,+ thus troubling men’s con- 

* Lieut.-Colonel Darval Vieira de Aguiar, “ Descripcoes practicas 


da provincia da Bahia.” 
Tt “Un moral excessiuamente rigida.” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 89 


sciences, and weakening the authority of the priest- 
hood, we call upon you to prohibit all your flock from 
listening to the preaching of this man.” The Arch- 
bishop does not seem to have been too happy in the 
composition of his pastoral. Rigid morality was not 
a drug in the Sertao, and a mere Jayman might have 
thought that the best way to combat such exhortations 
would have been to spur the priesthood on to a like 
cause themselves, instead of silencing the interloper. 

Allthe Archbishop’s efforts were infructuous. The 
people still flocked to the preaching of the prophet, 
bringing their offerings; and though there is no 
evidence that their morality was in the least improved, 
the churches all through the district were deserted and 
left desolate. 

The terrors of the Church having been of no avail, 
the secular arm next stepped into the breach. The 
authorities of Itapicuru wrote (in the year 1886) to 
the chief of police in Bahia to the following effect. 

After informing the head of the police that Antonio 
Conselheiro was camped close to the town, followed 
by hundreds of persons of both sexes, he went on to 
say: ‘‘The fanaticism of his followers knows no bounds. 
It is certain that a chapel has been built, a thing most 
necessary, at the expense of the town, but the 
sacrifice is greater than the benefit received, for all 
Antonio Conselheiro’s followers flock to his ministra- 
tions, leaving the vicar without a congregation in his 
church. . .. The fanatics look up to their leader as 
if he were a god. . . almost a living god. Often 
more than a thousand persons come to hear him 
preach.” In regions such as the Sertaéo, where 


go LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


distances are great and roads are non-existent, this was 
an enormous gathering, for the faithful probably came 
from many miles away. The “authority” went on to 
say : “The chapel cost about a hundred thousand 
reis, and all the workmen are from Ceara. These, as 
his countrymen, Antonio Conselheiro blindly protects, 
allowing them to commit all sorts of disorders, so that 
they go on with their work. . .. A dispute having 
arisen between the fanatics and the Vicar of Inhambupé, 
both sides armed themselves as for a battle, and the 
peaceful inhabitants were terrified to see the sectaries 
equipped with blunderbusses, swords and knives, and 
making ready to attack.” 

The expected battle seems not to have taken place. 
Perhaps the vicar’s followers were as well armed as 
were the sectaries: for nothing further is recorded of 
the matter by the “authority ” of Itapicuru. 

In 1887 the Archbishop of Bahia once more inter- 
vened, this time on the petition of the clergy of the 
diocese, who informed him that the “cause of our 
holy faith is suffering, through the proceedings of one 
Antonio Maciel, who is trying to convince the people 
that he is the Holy Ghost.” 

Either Antonio Conselheiro was proving more 
ambitious in his claims, or, as is probable, the clergy 
had misrepresented him, for he himself does not 
appear to have advanced pretensions of the kind or to 
have said that he was other than an ordinary man who 
had a mission to fulfil. 

The Archbishop wrote to the Governor of the 
province upon the matter, and he wrote to a 
minister of state, saying a madman had arisen in the 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO gl 


Sertio who seemed as if he might give trouble, and 
asked if there was a cell vacant in the “ Hospicio 
de Alienados” at the capital, in which the madman 
could be placed. The minister replied that there 
was no cell vacant—an admirable answer and a 
diplomatic, worthy of any state department—and no 
doubt pigeon-holed the correspondence, after the 
fashion of his kind. Nothing was done, and the plan 
of the Governor of Bahia, who seems to have been 
the only reasonable man who intervened in the mad 
business, was forgotten, and the fame of Antonio 
Conselheiro grew enormously. Legends began to 
cluster round about his doings, and reputable witnesses 
averred, as they have continuously averred in the like 
cases since the world began, that they had seen him 
work his miracles. 

In Bom Jesus, when ten stout workmen were 
endeavouring to raise a beam, the prophet told them to 
desist, and pointing with his finger to two, and those 
not the most robust of them, he ordered them to lift 
the burden, a task which they accomplished easily. 
This was seen by good Catholics who were certain 
that they were not deceived. Thought transference is 
a commonplace phenomenon; but transference of force 
is not so common, and it is reassuring to reflect that 
both the witnesses to it were regular communicants 
and had complied with all the ordinances. 

Another time the prophet came to Monte Santo and 
ordained that there should be a great procession to 
the highest chapel on the hill. Like a long snake the 
multitude wound its way up the mountain upon the 
path cut in the solid rock. It stopped to pray at all 


g2 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


the oratories. The heat was terrible, and many of 
the faithful faltered and fell out by the way. At the 
head of the procession marched Antonio Conselheiro, 
silent and corpse-like, his body worn by penitences, 
and his soul disturbed by its continual yearnings for 
union with his God. 

Night fell upon the multitude as they toiled 
upwards, and the line of torches which they held must 
have appeared to people in the plains below like a 
long file of glow-worms slowly advancing through the 
gloom. At last they reached the highest chapel on 
the rock. There Conselheiro sat himself down upona 
boulder and fell into an ecstasy. Long did he gaze 
upon the heavens, watching the stars as they appeared 
like fire-flies in the deep-blue of the calm, tropic night 
above his head. Meantime the faithful waited, seated 
on the rocks, silent and wondering. Passing amongst 
the throng that opened as he advanced, he went into 
the chapel, his eyes bent down upon the earth. 
Before the altar he paused, raised up his head and 
pointed with his finger to the most Holy Virgin, 
God’s Mother, who with her baby in her arms looked 
down compassionately upon the exhausted multitude 
who had struggled up the stony Calvary to do her 
honour and to worship at her shrine. The crowd 
turned towards the image, and lo ! a miracle occurred, 
seen plainly by them and manifest to everyone who 
stood within the fane. Two tears of blood rolled 
down the holy countenance—tears of compassion, 
it was said, for all the sufferings that the crowd 
had undergone upon its pilgrimage. ‘Thus through 
the Sertao by degrees the prophet’s fame became 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 93 


established. His miracles were well attested and 
believed, though he himself never put forth the smallest 
claim to supernatural power. In all his actions he 
had taken care never to infringe the law, although it 
is evident that by degrees tension between his followers 
and the authorities was gradually increased. The 
smallest spark sufficed to light the flame and place the 
prophet in opposition to the law, and push him to 
the course which in the end led to his ruin and the 


death of all his followers. 


CHAPTER) V 


As by degrees the tension between the authorities and 
the followers of the prophet increased and grew more 
serious, so did he himself assume a different air 
towards the world. At first he had been content with 
the uncomplaining martyr’s rdle, accepting stripes 
quite apostolically, and all the slights of jacks-in- 
office, and of fools, without a protest or a word. 
Things were to alter, and one day, in a place called 
Natuba, the vicar was amazed at the appearance of a 
man, lean, lank, and worn with fasting, who asked for 
shelter for the night. In the Sertado hospitality is 
universal, and no one ever is turned away from any- 
body’s door who asks for a night’s lodging and a bed. 
The unusual guest refused the offer of a bed, prefer- 
ring to sleep upon a board on the verandah, dressed as 
he was, without even taking off the raw-hide sandals 
that he wore upon his feet. Next morning he asked 
leave to preach during a festival, for a multitude of 
country folk had come from far and near to attend the 
ceremony. The vicar answered, “ Only a priest is com- 
petent to preach on such occasions in the church.” 
Then his guest demanded to be allowed to make the 
Via Sacra, and this too was refused. Then, drawing 
from his bag a cloth, he waved it in the air, and 
94 


LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 95 


taking off his sandals, shook the dust from them before 
the astonished priest; then, looking at him fixedly 
for a moment, he went away without a word, the 
crowd all making way for him as if he were a saint. 

Thus did he make the apostolic protest, and for the 
last time act the part of a submissive martyr, content 
to suffer all indignities and turn the other cheek. 
From this time he became a different man, irascible 
under the smallest contradiction; a dominating person- 
ality which had been long kept under now came 
uppermost. 

One day he reappeared again in the village of 
Natuba in which the vicar had affronted him. The 
church was ruinous, and as it chanced the vicar was 
away from home upon a visit to his parishioners. 
Without a word, Antonio Conselheiro ordered his 
followers to collect material to put the church in 
order, and when the astonished priest returned, he 
found an enormous pile of stones ready for use in front 
of the church door, and a great crowd encamped. 
His fury knew no bounds, and he at once placed an 
embargo on the stones, saying that he would use them 
for a road. This time the prophet made no silent 
protest ; but standing just before the porch, with arm 
outstretched and his eyes flaming, launched a most 
comprehensive curse against the vicar, his church, the 
village and all that dwelt in it, and then departed, 
followed by the multitude formed in procession sing- 
ing a hymn, till they had left the accursed spot 
behind. 

So passed away a year or two, his power always in- 
creasing, and his followers once more numerous. 


g6 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Then came the abdication of the Emperor Don Pedro 
de Alcantara, in the year 1893. This event naturally 
changed the outlook of the Brazilian people upon 
politics and life. It affected few more intimately than 
Antonio Conselheiro, brought up as he had been in an 
atmosphere of feudalism and of ecclesiasticism. All 
his preconceived notions of authority were outraged, 
and his religious instincts received a shock before the 
liberal attitude of the republic. During Don Pedro’s 
reign, though liberal himself, things had gone on 
without much alteration, partly from lack of initiative, 
partly because the central authority was weak, partly 
from the lack of roads, and the enormous size of the 
Brazilian territory. 

Things natural in themselves, that the new republic 
was obliged to institute, seemed daring innovations to 
the folk in the Sertao. Up to that moment (1893) 
Antonio Conselheiro had limited himself to a silent 
butan effective protest against the lethargy of theclergy, 
and their neglect to repair their chapels and churches 
when they fell into decay. From 1893 he took his 
stand as a politician, raising his protest against the 
Government. 

The event took place in a town known as Bom 
Conselho that was to bring him into conflict with the 
law. Municipalities had been proclaimed autonomous, 
that is to say they had the power of raising local rates. 
legally vested in them by a decree of the new Govern- 
ment. 

Upon the notice-boards of Bom Conselho one day 
there appeared some notice or another about taxation 
or the levying of rates. Why, it does not appear, for 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 97 


up to that time Antonio Conselheiro had rendered 
scrupulously to Cesar what was due and undue to 
him ; he fell into a fury at the sight of the offending 
notices. 

Calling the people all together after a fiery sermon, 
he had a bonfire lighted, and making as he said him- 
self an “auto da fé,” he burned the offending notice- 
boards to the accompaniment of hymns. He then 
proclaimed an insurrection, calling the republic the 
spawn of Satan, and an attempt to paganise the land. 
This done, he seems to have realised the gravity of 
his proceedings, and, followed by his flock, he took 
the way towards the north to give a clearer field for 
operations in a country still little settled and scantily 
populated. The Government sent all the forces they 
could muster in the province to capture him and to 
disperse his followers, and thus nip the insurrection in 
the bud before it gathered strength. Two hundred 
soldiers, ill armed and still worse officered, was all that 
they could lay their hands upon, and out of these only 
some thirty regulars were properly equipped. At a 
place called Massete they overtook the rebels in a little 
open plain. The thirty well-armed soldiers advanced 
upon the crowd, certain of victory. At their first fire 
dozens of sectaries were stretched upon the ground. 
Then their ranks opened and disclosed their rustic 
cavalry. These charged upon the soldiers, firing their 
blunderbusses; then falling like a thunderbolt on them, 
with their cattle goads and knives routed them utterly. 
The colonel gave the signal for the flight, setting the 
example by galloping away without a thought for 
what might happen to his men so that he saved his life. 

7 


98 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Many were killed and the remainder saved them- 
selves by a prompt flight into the woods. The 
prophet and his followers gained the first victory and 
remained upon the field. 

From this time forward they either took the 
name of Jaguncos,* or else it was applied to them in 
recognition of the prowess in their first stricken field. 
Their victory had the result of bringing in new 
followers, who flocked to the prophet’s standard in such 
numbers that a new force of eighty soldiers sent from 
Bahia dared not attack them, and returned home 
without a fight. 

In this they acted prudently, for in such districts as 
the Sertaéo, bushy and broken up by barriers of rocks, 
regular troops fought at a disadvantage with men 
brought up to frontier warfare from their youth, and 
all accustomed to bear arms. Thus was the die cast 
between Antonio Conselheiro and his proselytes, and 
the new republic. Though he was a mere fanatic in 
religious matters he was not blind as to the conse- 
quences of his rash action, even though crowned with 
victory at first. 

He at once perceived that the republic would send 
larger forces to apprehend him and to disperse his 
followers. Though his strength had been increased 
by his late success—the country-people flocking to him 
from all sides, eager to kiss the hem of his long cotton 
robe, and hail him as a Christ—he saw he must with- 
draw farther afield to some place capable of making a 
defence. 

Nobody better than himself knew the recesses of 


* Jagung¢os almost equals “ Bravos.” See note in Introduction. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 99 


the Sertao. For nearly twenty years he had traversed 
it on foot, and there was not a fastness with which he 
was not well acquainted, or a mountain path he had 
not trodden in his pilgrimage. Perhaps, long before 
his final break with the authorities, he had determined 
where to repair and build his Zion, when he was 
forced to flee farther into the more thinly peopled 
portion of the country, or perhaps he merely hit upon 
the place in his march towards the north. At any 
rate, with a vast multitude he set out, steadily north- 
wards, his following growing like a snowball as he 
proceeded on his way. At last, in the autumn of the 
year 1893, he reached Canudos, a spot hitherto un- 
known to fame. There he determined to prepare a 
place fit for defence and build a city far from the 
haunts of men. 


CHAPTER VI 


In 1893, after a long and painful journey, during 
whose course the people marched singing hymns, 
and with their portable altars and rough images of 
saints borne in the van, the prophet reached his 
goal. This was an old fazenda,* fallen into ruins and 
abandoned to decay, known as Canudos,+ a name des- 
tined to be carried far and wide through the vast terri- 
tory of Brazil. Euclydes da Cunha in his “Os Sertées,” 
the chiet authority for the events which happened 
there and for the life and the career of Antonio 
Conselheiro, tells us that at the time the prophet 
reached it all it consisted of was but some twenty 
huts. An idle population, armed to the teeth, whose 
chief occupation lay in drinking rum and smoking 
home-grown tobacco in long pipes whose stems were 
reeds cut on the river bank, formed its inhabitants. 
The river was the Vasa-Barris, a considerable stream in 
the north of the State of Bahia, a territory larger than 
many a kingdom in the Old World. Throughout the 
vast and turbulent district, everyone went armed ; all 
were born horsemen, every man in a more or less degree 
a devout and all-believing Catholic, and in things 
spiritual the local vicar was supreme. Naturally, he 


* Fazenda, cattle farm, or almost any country establishment. 
t Reeds. 


100 


LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 101 


had scant influence upon men’s actions, for they have 
always had, and possibly will ever have, a way of 
escaping from the thraldom of morality and faith. 
Men bow the knee and huddle up the mind into 
a nutshell, whilst still believing ready to persecute all 
those who differ from them, yet live like pagans, 
uninfluenced by the faith that they profess, still less by 
charity. 

So it was with the people of the Sertdes. The 
Vicar of Cumbé, he whom Antonio Conselheiro pub- 
licly cursed and shook the dust off from his sandals in 
his face, has left a record that the inhabitants of 
Canudos, at the time when the prophet first arrived 
there, were “an idle folk and given up to vice.” Their 
miserable huts, cane-built, and thatched with leaves of 
cabbage palm, looking like Indian wigwams, or like 
“‘ wickey-ups,” were scattered here and there upon 
the river banks. The fazenda house was all in ruins. 
Only the church remained intact, and round it was 
grouped the greater portion of the huts.. This church 
was destined to become, after it had been rebuilt, the 
rallying point of the Troy of the Jagungos—to use 
the graphic phrase of Euclydes da Cunha in his 
account of it. The river Vasa-Barris ran, like the 
Scamander, through a thick bed of reeds. 

On every side the landscape stretched out arid and 
dead-looking, scorched by the sun in summer and in 
the winter burned up by the frost. The hills were 
almost bare of vegetation, and through the scanty bush 
that straggled on their sides, peeped the red earth, 
giving the country a look as if a forest fire were 
passing over it. In the more fertile portions of the 


102 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


district grew various Bromelias, as the Caroa,*out of 
whose fibres the inhabitants of the Sertao make ropes 
and hammocks and their fishing nets, the Ananas de 
Agulha,j and the Caatinga Branca,{ whose hard, 
thorny leaves furnish a yellow dye. Here and there 
the Pereiro and the Icé flourished in spite of drought ; 
curious little trees that stand the heat and cold of the 
Sertéo better than any others known, and, though 
innocuous to the herds of both wild cattle and of 
horses, are said to be a poison to a horse heated with 
travelling or to domesticated§ beasts. 

To this deserted centre, shut in by mountains from 
the world, Antonio Conselheiro evidently thought that 
the accursed Government of the republic would never 
penetrate. Though it was situated not much more 
than two hundred miles from the town of Bahia, it 
was cut off from the outer world by forests, moun- 
tains, and by the lack of roads. The only railway 
finished at Queimadas, seventy or eighty miles away. 
Between it and the new Zion only led cattle tracks ; 
in the dry season waterless, and in the rains impassable 
through mud. 

The prophet seems to have had an inkling how 
strong the place was, and how defensible, or to have 
been advised by some old soldier in his company. 
From the first moment of his arrival at Canudos he 
displayed a feverish energy. Men saw him eagerly 


* Caroa Bromelia variegata. 

t Bromelia muricata. { Linparen tinctorea. 

§ I have been unable to identify these trees. Their leaves are of 
a very bright green colour, and when all vegetation droops and the 
leaves fall from the other trees, they continue green and fresh-looking. 
The Spondia tuberosa has the same drought-resisting properties. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 103 


surveying the best places to dig trenches, for this was 
his first care. He preached incessantly, foretelling the 
destruction of the world, but letting it be known that 
those who rallied to Canudos would be saved at the 
last judgment, and their lives should be prolonged. 
One who passed near the newly founded town at that 
time left the following testimony :* “ Districts of the 
surrounding region and even reaching out as far as the 
Sertdo of Sergipe were left uninhabited, so great was the 
influx of men and families who flocked towards Canu- 
dos, the place Antonio Conselheiro had selected for his 
operations. It made one sorry to see the extraordinary 
quantity of cattle, horses, goats, and other things, as 
houses and estates all sold for less than nothing, in 
their anxiety to set out on the road and have some 
ready money in their hands to help the ‘ holy Coun- 
cillor’ in his mad enterprise.” 

Inhambupé, Tucano, Cumbé, Itapicurt, Bom Con- 
selho, Natuba, Massacara and Monte Sacro, with half 
a hundred other towns in Ceara, in Pernambuco, and 
throughout the length and breadth of the Sertao, sent 
their inhabitants. The few rare travellers who ven- 
tured into regions so remote returned astonished at 
the sights that they had seen in the deserted towns. 
These were left tenantless, with the doors open, and 
the wild animals which had come out of the woods 
straying at pleasure through the streets. 

Over mountain trails, and labouring slowly from 
the villages upon the coast, came long processions, 
driving their flocks and herds in front of them. In 
their rude bullock carts were piled the children, their 


* The Baron de Geremoabo. 


104 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


altars, images of saints, and their scant furniture. They 
wound along, toiling through forests and through 
passes of the hills, all singing hymns, armed to the 
teeth, and many of them, riding the active little 
horses of the country, acting as foragers. When the 
last turning of the painful route was past, and finally 
the longed-for sanctuary appeared towards which they 
had converged, fleeing the wrath so soon to descend 
upon the world, they fell upon their knees. Tears 
trickled down the cheeks of the Vaqueiros, who, dis- 
mounting from their beasts, threw themselves on the 
ground. Tired women beat their breasts and children 
whimpered, the cattle lowed, the creaking of the 
ungreased wheels was stilled, and after prayer they 
joined in singing hymns of joy and thankfulness. 
Before them lay the land of promise, shut in by 
mountains and cut off from the world, but sanctified 
to them by all the sufferings they had undergone upon 
their pilgrimage. Canaan was theirs at last after 
their wandering, and they were safe at least for a brief 
space before the judgment day. The oxen were out- 
spanned, the flocks and horses driven off to feed, and 
then a ring of camp-fires lighted on the hills girdled 
the town with flame. 

They generally passed the night in prayer and in 
thanksgiving, and in the morning started out betimes 
to see the “ Councillor.” This pious duty duly per- 
formed, their first care was to set about to run up 
some sort of dwelling-place. On every side houses 
were springing up as if by magic—so rapidly, they 
seemed to rise out of the ground like mushrooms 
after a shower of rain. ‘Their rudimentary nature 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 105 


allowed the builders to construct ten or a dozen of 
them every day. Each family erected its dwelling- 
place exactly as it liked, and where it liked, so long 
as there was room. 

Nothing more monstrous or chaotic was ever seen 
than the New Zion, in which each man was a law unto 
himself, except so far as that he paid in all his funds 
towards the common stock, and looked for spiritual 
guidance and salvation from the impending doom 
threatening humanity to the Good Councillor. So 
houses built of reeds sprang up without streets being 
planned, in groups, making the most peculiar and 
heterogeneous assemblage of human dwelling-places, 
more rudimentary far than any Indian village in the 
woods. Thus twisting lanes were formed with angles 
sharp and easily defensible, which proved invaluable 
to the defenders of them in the strife that was to 
come. The little hill called “ A Favella’’ dominated 
the only open space. Another, “Os Pellados,” finished 
on a steep bank upon the River Vasa-Barris. Two 
streams, the Macuin and Umburanas, ran through the 
town and were linked up by trenches, which the 
prophet, with a keen eye to future possibilities, had 
ordered to be dug. The houses of the modern Zion 
were built on an invariable plan. Outside they looked 
a little like an ostrich nest or the rude shelters of 
gorillas, built all of reeds and thatched with rushes 
and with palm-leaves. In taking little thought of 
durability the builders acted logically enough. Who 
would be troubled to erect a Parthenon (except an 
artist for his own satisfaction) if it were destined to 
be overwhelmed as soon as it was built ? 


106 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


“« Inside, all of the huts had three compartments, after 
the fashion of the rude buildings of the Gauls in 
Cesar’s “* Commentaries.”’ First came a little entrance 
hall, then an atrium they used indifferently both as a 
kitchen and a dining-room. Lastly a low and heavy 
door gave access to the bedroom, where slept the 
women and the children of the family. In a dark 
corner of the mud-daubed wall was set an altar, which 
at first sight was hardly visible amidst the smoke and 
gloom. About it stood or hung some images of 
saints rudely hewn out of wood, looking like idols in 
a Ju-Ju house in Calabar, or in some village in the 
Cameroons. Figures of San Antonio like fetishes, 
and Blessed Virgins so hideous that they appeared 
like witches, kept guard upon the heathen-looking 
oratory. Two or three heavy stools, a chest or two 
of cedar-wood, or covered baskets made of rushes, and 
a tin candle sconce hanging from the roof formed all 
the furniture. ‘There were no beds, nor any tables, 
for they ate squatted on the kitchen floor, and slept in 
hammocks, or on the ground upon their saddle gear.”* 

A water bucket of raw hide, known locally as a 
Bogo, with some rude hunting-bags, hung from pegs 
stuck into the mud walls, with lazos, bridles, spurs and 
saddlecloths. Axes and cattle goads, with a few 
rustic ploughs and mattocks, stood in a corner of the 
hut, leaning against the wall. Their arms were all 
the various kinds of knives in use in the Sertdo, 
ranging from the short Faca de Ponta that they 
carried in their belts, to the long Parnahyba stuck 
beneath their saddle girths. Bayonets with wooden 


* Euclydes da Cunha, ‘Os Sertées.” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 107 


handles, kept in place by a cow’s tail put on when 
wet and left to shrink and become hard, old swords 
with wooden hilts but sharp as razors, and cattle goads 
shaped like an antique trident, were in the hands of 
all. Their firearms were at least as various: old 
blunderbusses and wide-mouthed pistols, that they 
charged with anything they had, as slugs and pebbles, 
small shot and bits of bone; long-barrelled fowling 
pieces ; and now and then a modern rifle, bought in 
Bahia or Pernambuco, formed their armoury. 

These they kept all well cleaned and oiled, ready 
for instant action, for they were well aware their Zion 
soon would be attacked. So closely did the agglomera- 
tion of reed huts assimilate to the prevailing colour ot 
the landscape that from a little distance off it was 
invisible, till their great church was built. Even 
when it rose high and Babylonical above the town, 
you might have taken it but for a mound of earth or 
natural eminence in the brown landscape that 
surrounded it. 

This property of invisibility either Antonio Consel- 
heiro or his military adviser took full advantage of, 
digging his trenches with their parapets bevelled down 
towards the ground, so that Canudos, though fortified 
with care, seemed open to attack. 


CHAPTER VII 


His trenches opened, and the ever-increasing population 
that had flowed into Canudos housed, or at least 
sheltered in their huts, Antonio Conselheiro’s first care 
was to draw up a scheme of life for them. He was, 
of course, supreme, after the fashion of all prophets 
and democratic leaders when they have attained to 
power. When a man is convinced, as was Antonio 
Conselheiro—for without doubt he was quite honest in 
his faith in himself—that he is God’s vicegerent upon 
earth, nothing more natural than he should make him- 
self obeyed. 

The intricate lanes formed by the fantastically 
grouped huts, the flanking hills, and above all the strong 
position on the river bank, secured him from a surprise 
attack. Seen from a little distance off, the reed-built 
huts and the brown earth of the embankments 
disappeared into the landscape, making the whole 
almost invisible, and difficult to bring under artillery 
fire. The flocks and herds of the community grazed 
under an armed guard of herdsmen well to the rear of 
the position, upon the old Fazenda lands. Water was 
always procurable from the various rivers that ran 


close to the town, and every band of pilgrims brought 
108 


LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO tog 


some store of grain with them which was placed in the 
common granary. 

Feeling himself secure, at least for a considerable 
time, he set about to mould the lives of the inhabitants 
according to his will. Conduct he left to individual 
taste, setting but little store upon it, as it would seem, 
for faith was his chief stronghold, in a world so soon 
to disappear. Ninety per cent. of all their worldly 
goods the faithful paid into the treasury, esteeming 
themselves happy with the little that remained to 
them, for mere material needs. ‘‘ Blessed are those who 
suffer ” was the theme that he embroidered on in all his 
sermons to his followers. He enjoined strict fasting, 
giving the example in his own person, and prolonging 
abstinence till he was nothing but a skeleton. Most 
of the day had to be passed in singing hymns and 
litanies. Sermons were frequent and all the popula- 
tion had to attend them under pain of penance and of 
punishment. 

Under this religious regimen, the simple Sertanejos 
became the fiercest of fanatics, and well deserved the 
title of Jagun¢os,* by which they were beginning to be 
known. All went about armed to the teeth, ready to do 
the bidding of their prophet at the least signal ; human 
life, never too highly valued in the Sertdo, became of 
still less value, though it cannot be said that Antonio 
Conselheiro in himself was cruel or took delight in 
blood. 

Like others of the Gnostics, he held that virtue was 
superfluous, as the end of the world was fast 
approaching ; considering it apparently a sort of vanity, 


* See note in Introduction. 


110 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


or, as it were, an affectation of superiority over one’s 
fellow-men. 

Anything that ennobled life here in this transitory 
existence savoured of impiety, and as a setting up 
of oneself against the Deity, who had decreed the 
destruction of the world. Marriage he set but little 
store by, as did Montanus in the second century. 
Though neither of them held it was but a mere licensed 
fornication, as did certain of the Gnostic sects, even 
perhaps Tertullian, Antonio Conselheiro considered it 
a counsel of perfection, thinking perhaps it was 
unnecessary to beget children into a world so soon to 
disappear. Free love he seems to have tolerated, or 
at the least made no inquiry into the conduct of his 
followers. They upon their part took full advantage 
of his tolerance, and after passing all the day either in 
listening to the prophet’s preaching or in singing 
litanies, at night indulged in orgies of the same 
pattern’ as the “mystical communion” of the 
Carpocratians, during the Agapes. The point, of 
course, has been debated since the creation of the 
world, and still remains debatable, as to whether man 
best fulfils his mission by living quietly under the laws 
the State sets down for him, paying his debts, marrying 
but a single wife at the same time, and educating all 
his children, or by indulging in his own desires, and 
then washing his sins away in a Niagara of tears. 
The parable of the Prodigal is, of course, the strongest 
argument in favour of the latter course, although to 
some minds repentance is a mean thing at the best, 
especially when it leads to the penitent getting the 
best of both the lines of conduct that a man is 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO III 


competent to tread. ‘‘ Repent, and sin no more” is 
a sort of moral fire insurance. No such ideas entered 
the heads of the Jagungos who sang their hymns with 
fervour, passed hours in church, and fornicated briskly, 
drinking as much raw rum as they could come by (for 
there was no fast on the drink), and waiting patiently 
for the destruction of mankind. 

Antonio Conselheiro dwelt often in his sermons to 
his well-armed saints upon the theme of “ Blessed are 
the sufferers,” exhorting all his hearers to avoid 
comfort, good food and clothes as they would shun the 
plague. Better a mortal sin, he said, than an excess of 
comfort, holding, as did the monks of the Thebais, that 
dirt and ignorance, idleness and maceration of the 
flesh, were things more acceptable to Him who at 
the same time had given reason to mankind by which 
to shape their lives. 

So prophets from the beginning have assumed to 
know God’s mind better than He Himself ; for vanity 
and pride disguised in rags and misery have been their 
guiding stars. Still, it was evident Antonio Consel- 
heiro preached in good faith and all sincerity. Had 
he not done so, he would have had no followers, for 
let the ecstatic, mystic, revolutionary, or any other 
class of men doubt of the leader’s faith, they follow 
him no more. 

Antonio Conselheiro practised all he preached, 
fasting to the point of actual starvation, sometimes 
remaining hours upon his knees in ecstasy before the 
rough-hewn figures of the saints, at others busying 
himself with public matters—for he was priest and 
king. Although an almost absolute promiscuity 


112 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


reigned amongst the faithful to an incredible degree, 
no one has ever brought a single accusation attaching 
to his name in matters sexual. 

His private life was pure, his house no better than 
the thousand other huts clustering on every side. 

His food was simple, and his dress always the 
invariable tunic of blue cotton, belted to the waist. 

His tolerance or cynicism—for in some religious 
leaders it is not easy to distinguish accurately between. 
them—at least for the lay mind—was all-embracing. 
On one occasion a complaint was brought to him that 
a Jagunc¢o in an excess of pious fervour had seduced a 
girl of tender years. He answered, “She has but 
followed the common destiny of all, and passed 
beneath the tree of good and evil like the rest.”* 

This aphorism must have seemed inspired to the 
Jagungos, for it passed almost into a proverb in the 
Sertéo during the prophet’s reign. Its ferocious cyni- 
cism does not appear to have occurred tothem. The 
phrase, with its flavour of the Scriptures, no doubt 
appeared to them dictated from on high. Thus did 
the prophet Samuel hew Agag in pieces before the 
Lord, regardless of all honour and all faith, and ride 
off on a phrase. Each day the prophet gave his 
counsels to the faithful, pointing out the way that they 
should go, and now and then performing miracles. 

One day a follower wasted with fasting came to 
visit him, and was. invited to sit down to share his 
frugal meal. When he departed he proclaimed, 
though he had eaten hardly anything, he felt as if he 


* “Segito o destino de todas, passou por baxio da arvore do bem e 
do mal.” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 113 


had risen from a banquet, strong and refreshed with 
meat. The wondrous news ran through the town 
and all rejoiced, both at the miracle and because it was 
a sign the Lord had given to their Councillor. 
Whether Antonio Conselheiro wished to bring the 
people’s bodies low by fasting and thus exalt their 
minds, no one can say ; but it is certain that the whole 
population of Canudos lived, as it were, upon a 
pilgrimage of body and of mind. A people in this 
state is moved more easily to acts of heroism and of 
self-abnegation than those who pass an ordinary life, 
marrying and giving in marriage, buying and selling 
and setting down accounts by double entry. The 
greater part of the prophet’s followers were simple 
folk, who no doubt really thought the destruction of 
the world was close at hand, and practised fasting and 
the rites of their religion in absolute good faith. 
Others arrived, of a far different complexion ; these he 
accepted without a question, holding, perhaps, that 
their adhesion to his cause wiped out their crimes ; or, 
understanding that if the aim is sure, it matters little 
if the hand that fires the gun be steeped in villainy. 
So, homicides and cattle-stealers, the broken men of 
the Sertao, flocked to Canudos, and were received into 
the fold. 

Soon round him was assembled a sort of Hallelujah- 
band of bravos, much like the Danites who surrounded 
Brigham Young at Salt Lake City in the first days of 
Mormonism. The finest flower of all the rascaldom 
of the Jaguncos flocked to Canudos to form his body- 
guard. They all held human life at a low price, for 


they had risked their own a hundred times in 
8 


114 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


desperate enterprises. All were good horsemen, able 
with lazo and with lance, and all were men accustomed 
to the knife, for they had used it many a time at fair 
and pilgrimage. All carried guns of varying patterns, 
and used them handily, and not a rascal of them all 
but owed a life or two. 

José Venancio, the terror of Volta Grande, who had 
committed half a dozen homicides, appeared one day 
before Antonio Conselheiro, and, kneeling in the dust, 
beat with his hands upon his breast, saying he was a 
miserable sinner and imploring to be saved. The 
prophet pardoned him, and took “him straightway 
into favour, without, as it appears, even the vain 
formality of telling him to sin no more and to live 
virtuously. 

Then appeared Pajehu, a ruffian who had committed 
innumerable crimes, but a born genius as a bush- 
fighter and a partisan. Tall and well made, his face 
was flat and negro-looking, his limbs athletic, and his 
whole air that of a murderer and an assassin steeped in 
villainy. ‘The prophet, knowing his value as a guerilla 
leader, for he had proved it in a dozen skirmishes, 
made him his adjutant. Lolau, another scoundrel of 
the same kidney and a friend of Pajehu, arrived and 
also bent the knee before the prophet, holding his 
rifle in his hand. 

Chiquinho and Jodo da Motta, brothers and high- 
waymen, grovelled before the altar like a pair of 
‘sacred wolves.” They were named corporals of the 
guard of vigilantes, whose task it was to watch the 
entrance to the town, just at the junction of the rivers 
Cocorob6 and Uaui where they fell into the main 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 115 


stream. Pedro, a bestial Cafuz,* with thirty chosen 
men, occupied the slopes of the little hil] called Canna 
Brava. Estevam, a negro, whose body, all scarred 
over with old knife and bullet wounds, seemed to have 
been tattooed, guarded the Cumbaio. Joaquim Tranca- 
pes} had the care of Angico, another strategic point. 
“¢ Major” Sariema, a man of better education than the 
rest, fearless and turbulent, had no particular charge 
confided to him, but led the wilder spirits in every 
charge during the siege until he met his death. 
Raymundo Bocca-Torta,{ from Itapicuru, half comic 
and half tragic in his aspect, also arrived to lend his 
look as of a low comedian crossed with a gallows 
bird. The fawn-like Chico Ema, afterwards head 
of the scouts, with a guerilla leader of some repute 
called Norberto, joined the pious ranks, and fought 
unto the death during the last days of the Zion they 
had elected to defend. Quimquim de Coiqui, a man 
who had abjured all kinds of religion, felt his heart 
touched, and once again bowed his head reverently, 
and passed his beads between his fingers as he wept 
before the cross. 

Antonio Fogueteiro, an ex-lay preacher, proved in- 
defatigable in making proselytes. José Gamo, a cattle- 
thief, and Fabricio de Cocoboco, who seems to have 
had no special qualifications except his faith, were 
amongst the proselytes. 

Foreign to the general credulity, the asute Villa 
Nova offered his services, and on his knees before the 


* Half-breed, between Indian and negro. 
t The tripper. Trancar is ‘to trip up.” 
{ Wrymouth. 


116 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


altar aped those who prayed and beat upon their 
breasts, although his thoughts were probably fixed on 
his nefarious schemes. Old Macambora, not anxious 
for the fray, and known as Soft-Heart,* with his son 
Joaquim rode up one day and, getting off their horses, 
threw themselves on the ground before the prophet, 
and swore him fealty. Although “ soft-hearted ” in 
the Jagungo phrase, old Macambora still was danger- 
ous. Famous in council, his scheming brain con- 
ceived the plans for the most part of the surprises and 
the ambushes that cost the Government so many 
soldiers, though he himself kept out of danger and 
never risked his life. His son Joaquim, though but a 
boy in years, perished heroically. 

Antonio Beato, a lean mulatto, rendered leaner still 
by fasting, furnished the comic element, and was, in 
fact, one of those semi-madmen who appear in times 
of difficulty and of revolt. Half soldier and half sac- 
ristan, he bore a missal in one hand and in the other 
carried a blunderbuss. Antonio Conselheiro used him 
as a spy upon his followers, and he transmitted to his 
chief all that he heard about town. No one was safe 
from the half-witted yet astute mulatto, and as he 
passed along the street all conversations ceased till he 
was gone. 

One man alone was innocent and pure in life and 
spent his time in doing good. This was the 
“ Curandeiro,”’}~ Manoel Quadrado, who looked at all 
he saw with the most complete indifference, passing 
his time in gathering simples in the woods. 


* Coracdo Molle. t Hedge doctor. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 117 


José Felix, known as Taramella,* with Antonio 
Beato, guarded the sanctuary, and had the keys of the 
great trunks in which were stored the miserable robes 
used for processions and for ceremonies. 

Lastly the governor (Chefe do Povo), Joao Abbade, 
astute and dominating, had the charge of keeping 
order amongst the civil population, a task that he dis- 
charged with great ability, as he understood his 
countrymen and their mentality. Surrounded by this 
bodyguard of scoundrels and fanatics, Antonio Consel- 
heiro disposed of absolute authority over his followers. 
This he does not seem to have abused or used for his 
own benefit, but turned it all to his religious ends for 
disciplining life. Prayers grew and were extended 
daily, and litanies lasted for hours; but the supreme 
and culminating moment was “the kissing of the 
saints.” 

Slowly up the church Antonio Beato advanced, with 
the peculiar swinging of the haunches of the mulatto, 
holding a crucifix. Upon the altar steps he turned 
towards the congregation, with the look of a fakir in 
ecstasy. Pressing the crucifix close to his breast, he 
fell down prone upon the ground, kissing it fervently. 

He gave the crucifix to the nearest worshipper, who 
kissed and passed it on. So round the church it cir- 
culated, followed by the images of saints, which all 
devoutly passed from hand to hand amongst the faith- 
ful, and were devoutly kissed. 

A scene of ever rising religious erethism was the 
result. Groans, cries, and sobs broke from the over- 
strained assemblage. Women fell down and writhed 


* The mill-clapper—z.e., chatterer. 


118 LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 


upon the ground, exclaiming, “ Jesus! Jesus !” 
Children screamed and clutched their mothers’ shawls. 
The rude Vaqueiros beat their breasts, whilst the tears 
trickled down their cheeks. A thrill as of religious 
erotomania shook every limb, distorting every coun- 
tenance into a sort of grin, half amorous, half demo- 
niacal. Even the leaders yielded to it. The hideous 
Pajehu threw his arms round a “sister” fervently, 
whilst old Macamboro leered upon a maiden of fifteen 
with an expression like a pious satyr “cut in ebony.” 
The others yelled, and brandishing their arms, shouted 
their war-cries as if they wished to take heaven by 
assault, carrying their prophet with them to establish 
him on high. 

Suddenly all was stilled, as if by magic, and every 
eye was turned towards Antonio Conselheiro, who 
stood beside a table in the chancel beckoning for 
silence with his hand, after the manner of St. Paul 
upon the Areopagus. 


CHAPTER VIII 


In a low voice, and with his eyes fixed on the ground, 
he began to speak to the assembled multitude, through 
which a sort of ripple ran, just as it runs through a 
calm sea after a violent storm. 

The enormous half-finished temple was packed to 
overflowing with a crowd mostly composed of women 
dressed in dirty white. Here and there men and 
youths were scattered, and in a clump close to the 
door stood the redoubtable guerilla leaders, all armed to 
the teeth. The temple still was open to the skies, 
crossed here and there by beams which were to hold 
up the projected roof. The atmosphere was heated 
like a stove. Little by little the speaker warmed up 
to his work, lifted his head, and broke out into invec- 
tive against the republic and its work. God had 
forsaken all its agents. The impious ministers wished 
to destroy religion, and to turn everyone into mere 
atheists, only fit for hell. If it prevailed the reign of 
Antichrist was assured. At the mention of the awful 
name the audience broke out into cries of “Jesus, 
Jesus!” ‘Long live our good Councillor!” “Long live 
God!” The preacher’s eyes seemed to flash fire. No 
one dared look him in the face. The women veiled 
their heads in their dingy whitish mantles, children 

11g 


120 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


cowered beside them, clutching at their hands; even 
the leather-clad Jaguncos were moved, and the tears 
trickled down their cheeks hardened by the sun and 
cold. Only their leaders kept up a semblance of 
stoicism, but raised their arms into the air, brandish- 
ing knives and guns. The orator paused for a 
moment, throwing back his fell of hair. The per- 
spiration poured down his face. Then he struck into 
a vein of prophecy. The reign of God was nigh. He 
would descend in majesty and might, confound His 
enemies, and destroy the impious republic ; cast down 
the mighty from their seats ; exalt the sufferers, the 
poor—His poor—and burn up those who had refused 
to come and listen to His Councillor. When the 
demoniac republic had disappeared, the King, Don 
Sebastian, should reign again for a brief space in 
glory, before the destruction of the world. Then, 
little by little, Antonio Conselheiro finished his dis- 
course, till, at the end of it, he once more stood with 
his eyes upon the ground, muttering half-broken 
phrases, as in an ecstasy. When he had ceased, the 
effect upon the congregation was electric. Groans, 
sighs, and broken exclamations burst out, and the 
assemblage seemed as if a magnetic current had been 
applied to it, for it trilled and shivered in an orgasm 
of faith. 

Slowly it filed out of the building and dispersed, 
and soon Canudos, exhausted by its faith, was silent, its 
people sleeping off their debauch. 

Rude rhymes celebrated what they had heard in 
halting strophes. Some of them have been preserved, 
such as “ Antichrist was born to govern poor Brazil, 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 121 


but God raised up our Councillor to save us from 
that ill.”* “Our King, Don Sebastian, will come to 
visit us, and free us from the reign of the dog.’+ 
These rude effusions show the intellect and the faith 
of the prophet’s followers. He himself could have 
but a vague idea of a republic, and as far as can be 
seen it had not troubled him in any way, whilst his 
revolt was entirely concerned with spiritual affairs. 
In reality the Sertanejos cared no more for the 
Emperor than for the President, or understood the 
principles of either government. All that they wanted 
was to be allowed to live their lives in their own 
fashion, herding their cattle, listening to sermons, 
singing endless hymns, and deciding personal disputes 
with blunderbuss or knife, after the fashion of their 
ancestors, the Bandeirantes,{ who had settled up 
the land. 

Antonio Conselheiro himself did not so much rebel 
against authority as against life, perhaps expecting 
from it more than it had to give upon the spiritual 
side, not understanding that a fine day, with health to 
enjoy it, is the most spiritual of the pleasures open to 
mankind. However, Antonio Conselheiro was not 
always in the clouds, or in the pulpit preaching to his 


* “QO Anti-Christo nasceu 
Paro o Brazil governar 
Mas ahi esta O Conselheiro 
Para delle nos livrar.” 


t+ “ Visita nos vena fazer 
Nosso rei Don Sebastido 
Coitado daquelle pobre 
Que estiver na lei do cdo.” 


t See Introduction, 


122 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


followers. Like other mystics, he had an intensely 
practical side. He was to be observed all day super- 
intending those whose task was to dig trenches and to 
construct lines of embankments along the river, behind 
which riflemen could lie. One thing above all others 
claimed his especial care. This was to build a temple 
worthy of the place, large enough to hold the 
enormous congregations that assembled in it, and to 
sustain the dignity that must attach to the last 
church built before the destruction of the world. 
The faithful gave their work gratuitously. Material 
was brought from every district of the Sertdo, and 
piles of wood, of stone, and tiles were heaped on 
every side of the chief square. The builders laboured 
with the assiduity of ants, possessed, in addition to 
their instinct, of a religious fervour that drove them 
to their work. Since the building of the pyramids 
mankind could not have seen such crowds of unskilled 
labourers carrying beams and stones for their vast 
enterprise. The difference was that in Canudos all 
worked voluntarily, without an overseer except their 
Councillor himself. Early and late he was amongst 
his labourers, speaking to no one, but seeing every- 
thing. Nothing appears to have daunted him. The 
frigid mornings of the Sertéo, with the thermometer 
well below freezing-point, found him at daylight, 
bareheaded, dressed in his cotton tunic, labouring at 
his post. 

At noonday, when the fierce sun, even after frosty 
mornings, pours down like molten lead upon the 
argillaceous earth of the barren hills around Canudos, 
he was still upon his rounds. His workmen saw him 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 123 


with admiration, mixed with fear, walk like a tight- 
rope dancer or a somnambulist across beams passing 
between the walls, at a prodigious height, as little 
moved as when he walked upon the ground. Slowly 
the monstrous Babylonic edifice arose within a mass 
of rustic scaffolding sustained by ropes made of raw 
hide, or merely of lianas cut down from the trees. 
Shortly it dominated the whole town, towering above 
the humble parish church of the Fazenda, which it soon 
dwarfed and rendered insignificant. Built solidly in 
a rectangular construction, giving it the look of a 
medieval or of a prehistoric fortress reared by some 
Nimrod to reach to heaven and dominate mankind, it 
towered above the town. In the dead-looking land- 
scape, where few trees but the Mangabeira* stand the 
terrific and brusque alterations of the temperature 
and still retain their leaves, the giant temple loomed 
up menacing and brown. Its walls were brown, the 
prevailing colour of the stone of the Sertaéo. The 
outspreading sea of huts was brown and dingy-looking. 
Outside the boundaries and across the River Vasa- 
Barris the low and undulating hills looked calcined, 
and as barren as the mountains of the moon. Most 
of the workers wore the deerskin dress of the 
Vaqueiros, and laboured in a cloud of dust that dyed 
their faces even a deeper brown. 

The dust hung over everything, rendering Canudos 
and its rising temple almost invisible within its folds, 
regarded from a little distance off. A traveller passing 
on the hills must have seen nothing but the simoon 


* Ribeirea sorbilis. 


124 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


raised by the barefooted workers, pierced by the high 
walls of the rising temple, and by the cries of those 
who laboured at the task, sheltered and cut off from 
mankind. The temple of the Jagunco Zion was 
never finished ; but still it played its part in the siege 
that was to come. Meanwhile, like a second Birs- 
Nimrod it towered above the brown, low rancheria* 
of the sectaries. 

The Government, far away in Rio de Janeiro, was 
no doubt but imperfectly informed of what was going 
on in the Sertéo. It saw at first merely a monarchist 
reaction of which Antonio Conselheiro was the 
head. In the chief newspapers of Rio de Janeiro 
articles used to appear, speaking of the Sertdo as 
a second La Vendée, and hinting that European 
money was fomenting plans against “ our freedom,” 
and endeavouring “to plant once more the iron 
claw of the Imperial eagle in the heart of our beloved 
native land.” It may be that these articles were 
directed at conspirators in the capital itself, after the 
usual fashion of all Governments that never like to 
take the straight road when a crooked path can 
possibly be found. They must have known that in 
the Sertao the people really did not care for any 
Government, and it was patent to all Brazil that the 
Emperor Don Pedro, a quiet, scientific man, was quite 
delighted to have done with politics and to retire into 
his laboratory. Before resorting to the principle of 
force by which all Governments must ultimately 


* “Rancheria” is the word generally applied to a collection of 
Indian or negro huts throughout the Americas. We have no word 
in English for it, as we have no such assemblages of huts. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 125 


stand, the central authority sent up a missionary to 
endeavour to persuade the revolutionaries to come 
into the fold. 

In 1895, ona May evening, there appeared upon one 
of the low hills that overlooked Canudos a figure of a 
kind hitherto not seen by the inhabitants since they 
had built their town. Frei Jodo Evangelista de 
Monte Marciano was the emissary. Himself a Capu- 
chin and a man of letters,* he was accompanied by two 
companions, the Vicar of Cumbé, who had already 
quarrelled with the prophet, and another Capuchin, 
Frei Caetano de S. Leo. All three must have been 
men of resolution and of courage to put their heads 
into the lion’s den, unarmed and unsustained by any 
following. 

Slowly they walked into the town, to the amaze- 
ment of its inhabitants. Frei Monte Marciano borea 
crucifix, and all the three advanced chanting a litany, a 
sort of ‘‘ morituri te salutemus,” as it were, before the 
sacrifice. In his own ‘“ Relatorio” Frei Monte 
Marciano tells us that “‘the chief square was packed 
with people crowding one upon another,” that “all 
were armed to the teeth with guns and knives, with 
swords and iron-tipped cattle-goads.” All this does 
not appear to have intimidated him or his companions 
in their apostolic raid. 

They passed before the ancient church of the 
Fazenda, now turned into a chapel, and kept on upon 
their way through a dense multitude. They 
entered into a dark, winding lane in which the 


* In his “ Relatorio”’ he has set down the results of his mission, 
and given a most interesting account of Canudos. 


126 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


inhabitants all came out to their doors “ with an 
unquiet air, sinister and inquiring, that spoke of 
disturbed consciences and hostile intents,” as the brave 
friar has set down in his “ Relatorio.” The Vicar of 
Cumbé had an official residence in the old village, now 
become a town. To this the triad bent their steps, 
and found it shut up, falling into decay. Round it 
were gathered groups of men, all armed, who glared 
at them without a word. Their position was not 
pleasant, and their disgust and apprehension were 
increased by the sight of eight dead bodies borne to 
the cemetery without the outward signs of Christian 
burial. Armed ruffians bore along the bodies at a 
trot, wrapped in their hammocks, as if, in the striking 
phrase used by Euclydes da Cunha in describing it, 
“a dead man in that city was a deserter from his 
martyrdom, fit to be buried like a dog.” 

The news of the arrival of the emissaries reached 
Antonio Conselheiro, at his daily task of overseeing. 
He took no notice of it, but went on with his work as 
usual, and then, entering the chapel, fell to his daily 
prayers. The missionaries, thus rebuffed, were forced 
to go to him, and turning back again through the 
dark, winding lane amongst a crowd ever increasing 
in hostility, at last they reached the church. Opening 
the door, they gave the usual salutation, “‘ Praised be 
our Lord Jesus Christ,’ and to their joy Antonio 
Conselheiro advanced and answered them, “ Let the 
good Lord be praised for ever,” so they knew that they 
were safe. 

Frei Monte Marciano was much impressed by the 
appearance of the prophet and his “‘ air of penitence.” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 127 


“‘ His long and uncombed hair was beginning to turn 
grey ; his face, worn with fasting, looked like that of 
a corpse as he advanced to meet us down the church.” 
Antonio Conselheiro appeared to be pleased with the 
visit of the friars, and leaning on his pilgrim’s staff, his 
frail and wasted body bent a little forward, he 
welcomed them cordially. For once he appears to 
have laid aside his habitual reserve. He told them 
how his work was getting on, offered to show them 
round the church, and then, going in front, acted as 
guide, stopping occasionally in an access of coughing, 
which shook him so terribly that Frei Monte 
Marciano feared he might expire. 

The friars were astonished, for they had expected 
quite another kind of welcome into the lion’s den. 
They thought their victory was half gained already, 
and their spirits rose, for little did they know that the 
frail body leaning on its staff contained an iron will. 
This failure to appreciate the man with whom they 
had to deal led them into a fatal error that they were 
never able to retrieve. As they walked through the 
church, it gradually filled with curious onlookers ; 
for strangers in Canudos were a rare spectacle, 
especially friars. When they arrived at the choir, 
Frei Monte Marciano, turning round, addressed the 
multitude. Raising his voice with confidence, as if he 
had been preaching in his own monastery, he launched 
into one of those well-meaning but tactless harangues 
that upon like occasions have so often added fuel to 
the fire. 

“T take this opportunity,” so he said, “ in the name 
of the Archbishop, to call upon you all to disperse and 


128 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


return to your homes, for this will be both for your 
own and for the general good.” Much more he 
said, all quite within the bounds of common sense, 
and applicable enough had he been speaking to 
an ordinary crowd. He spoke of all the assembled 
people were enduring, of the bodies hurried to the 
grave without a prayer that he had seen during the 
morning, and on the danger of the gathering together 
of such a multitude in arms. 

His courage certainly was great, but his discretion 
not in proportion to it, for his harangue at once stirred 
up his auditors to fury, and they broke into shouts of 
“‘Death to the friar! Long live our Councillor!” The 
imprudent friar’s life hung by a thread, but Antonio 
Conselheiro stilled the tumult with a movement of 
hishand. ‘Turning towards the friar, he said : “‘' These 
people that you see in arms have all assembled 
only to guard me from my foes. You may remember 
a little time ago at Masseté the impious republic 
wished to slay me, and there was fighting and deaths 
upon both sides. In the time of the monarchy I 
allowed myself to be apprehended quietly, because I 
recognised the Government. To-day I defend myself, 
for I refuse to recognise the republic, or any of its 
works.” 

This explanation, quietly conveyed in a respectful 
tone, was not sufficient for the Capuchin. With 
a zeal worthy of a martyr, he began to explain the 
attitude of Rome towards all Governments, explaining 
that in France, which for the last twenty years had 
been a republic, the Church recognised the laws. 
He might have said that the Apostle Paul, as far as 





ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 129 


we know, bowed to the authority of Nero, taking 
apparently no heed of the proceedings in the Golden 
House, the slaying of the Christians, or of the burning 
of the town. This, of course, might have been, as the 
proverb says, putting himself into a shirt ofieleven yards 
in breadth,* for certainly none of his auditory could 
have heard of Nero, and not too many of St. Paul. 

“Even here in Brazil,” said the intrepid friar, “‘ we 
all, from the Archbishop downwards, recognise the 
actual Government, and only you and these, your 
followers, refuse. Your doctrine must be false!” A 
shout broke from the Jagun¢os assembled in the 
church: “ No, your reverence it is that has false 
doctrine ; our Councillor, the right.” 

A slow and sweeping gesture from the prophet 
stilled the tumult once again, and he said quietly, “I 
will not tell my followers to disarm themselves, nor 
yet disperse and return to their homes. At the same 
time I will do nothing to disturb the holy mission of 
your reverence.” 

Word had gone round that the prophet was in 
danger, and the Jagun¢os, to the number of five 
thousand, hurried to the square, their bandoliers all 
full of cartridges and with their weapons in their 
hands. Inside, the church was packed, and when the 
friar mounted into the pulpit towards which Antonio 
Conselheiro motioned him, with a courteous gesture 
of the hand, he gazed upon a veritable sea. Without 
a text he launched into his discourse. The congrega- 
tion every now and then broke into protests at 
doctrines differing so widely from those their 


* “WMeterse en camisa de once varas.” 


130 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Councillor was wont to preach to them. He himself, 
standing by the altar, now and then gravely bent his 
head in sign of approbation when the protests grew 
more vehement and loud. Frei Monte Marciano 
touched upon topics that he thought would commend 
themselves to his vast congregation ; fasting, especially, 
occupied a portion of the discourse. He said that 
fasting was enjoined, not to destroy the bodies of 
mankind, but to restrain their passions, and that a man 
might eat sufficient meat to keep him in good health 
and yet commit no sin. In fact, he preached a 
sermon of the kind known to Scotch theologians 
as Erastian, a mere cold morality, very unsatisfying to 
the soul. When he explained his theory of fasting 
the Jaguncos broke into a laugh, and one exclaimed, 
‘“‘'That is not fasting, but mere gormandising.” His 
sermon finished in Homeric laughter and in jeers; but 
the friar still persisted for four days, in spite of being 
branded a Freemason and a Protestant-Republican. 
He also was accused of being a mere emissary of the 
Government, sent to distract the attention of people 
till the troops should arrive. The last time that the 
imprudent friar addressed his unwilling hearers was 
on homicide. No theme could have been less accept- 
able to men accustomed from their youth to violence. 
Their attitude became so hostile that there was 
nothing left him, if he aspired to save his life, but 
to retreat, and that as speedily as he was ready for the 
road. His undaunted courage and his zeal were 
wasted—that is, if the exercise of zeal and courage are 
ever really wasted—or exercised in vain. In the 
material field, on which alone the vulgar estimate that 





ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 131 


most vulgar of results, success, he achieved little, fail- 
ing where men as zealous and undaunted as himself 
have often failed before. Fifty-five couples who had 
been living in open scandal and in sin, to their own 
satisfaction, he joined in wedlock, blotting out the sin, 
but not the scandal, as that had passed into the region 
of things done, beyond the power of mitigation or 
recall. 

He and his followers heard several hundred general 
confessions, which must have been extended to some 
length, for there was plenty to confess. 

Not much achieved, for all the danger he had run; 
but then the field was stony, as are the pastures in the 
uplands of Castile, outside of Avila. 

When they came to a little hill, Frei Monte 
Marciano and his two companions halted ; then, taking 
off their sandals, they shook the dust from them 
against Canudos, and after having launched the curse 
of Rome against the place and its inhabitants, they 
bent their steps towards a more favourable field. 


CHAPTER IX 


Tue mission having failed ignominiously, there was 
no resource left to the Government but an appeal to 
arms. At that time the central authority of the 
new republic was not thoroughly established, and 
throughout the country various revolutionary move- 
ments were going on to combat it. 

The city of Lengoes was besieged by brigands. 
Towards the territory in which are situated the 
diamond mines all was confusion, and in Rio Grande 
do Sul military operations were taking place.  Sit- 
uated as it was, the Government found it impossible to 
send an expedition against Canudos for a considerable 
time. ‘This gave Antonio Conselheiro time to con- 
solidate his position and to receive great reinforcements 
from the surrounding districts of the Sertdo. 

For at least two hundred years the territory im- 
mediately to the west of the district of Canudos had 
been a prey to social turmoil; for it was there, 
attracted by the gold and diamond mines, that the 
most turbulent elements of the population of Brazil 
found a congenial home. All those who did not like a 
settled life of work came to the territory, ostensibly to 
seek for mines, but in reality to live by rapine and 
by crime. 

132 





LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 133 


There, the Jagun¢go was preceded by the Garimpeiro, 
a predatory rascal who lived by stealing cattle and by 
pillaging outlying farms. He, in his turn, was helped 
by the Capungueiro or outcast from the towns, who 
found the life congenial to him and became as savage 
as the Indians. The territory between the rivers 
Vasa-Barris and Sao Francisco stretching north and 
south, and from Canudos westward to the Rio das 
Egoas,* had thus become a veritable no-man’s-land. 
In 1804 Caetano Pinto de Miranda Montenegro, a 
traveller who has left much curious information as to 
his wanderings at that epoch, writes of it : ‘“‘ Coming 
from Cuyaba to the Recife, a journey of six hundred 
and seventy leagues . . . I formed the opinion that 
in no portion of the dominions of the King of 
Portugalt is human life less safe”—this though 
he had traversed leagues of virgin forest exposed 
to the attacks of the wild Indians, and though 
Cuyaba itself was a remote and frontier village, 
situated at the extreme limits of the empire, and took 
three months to reach. A more modern writer, 
Colonel Durval, puts it on record that “‘ anyone who 
has to travel through the territory must lay in a great 
stock of all provisions and be well armed, for at that 
price alone will he achieve his journey in security.” 
The whole face of the country was undulating, broken 
by hills, cut here and there with islands of forest that 
jutted out into the elevated plains called Taboleiros, 

* River of the Mares, probably so called from the herds of wild 
horses that frequented its banks in old times. 

t Recife= Pernambuco, so called from the great reef (recife) that 


forms the harbour, 
{ Brazil was then a Portuguese colony. 


134. LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


which .were studded with cactus, dwarf palms, and 
scrubby bush. In the plains the grass was good, and 
capable of sustaining considerable herds of cattle—had 
there been security for property and life. As it was, 
these were but scantily grazed upon, and that to a 
considerable disadvantage, as owing to the sparse 
populations, jaguars from the surrounding forest did 
great damage to the herds. 

Houses were rare and travellers infrequent, and on 
the plains or in the forest trails strangers on meeting 
manceuvred, as it were, for the weather gauge. They 
shouted out their salutations from afar, each with his 
hand close to his gun, holding his horse upon the bit, 
ready to pull his head up to receive a shot aimed at 
the rider, or dash aside should the stranger endeavour 
to close in. Men on a journey in the district kept 
their eyes fixed on the horizon to discover dust rising, 
or the smoke issuing from a burning house, or on the 
ground to mark the trail of any passer-by upon the 
road. Strangers were enemies, and dust, or smoke, 
fresh broken branches on a bush, or grass just trodden 
down, the flight of birds, or the uneasy movement of 
the cattle on the plains, warned travellers to be upon 
the watch. 

The scattered towns were fallen into decay, although 
recovering about the time when the prophet founded 
Canudos ; but they were many leagues apart from one 
another. The mining town of Januaria, in 1879, was 
conquered by a band of Jagungos from a place called 
Carinhanha, who sacked it and returned laden with 
the spoil. Pildo Arcado, once flourishing, but now 
(1918) deserted, suffered the same fate, after a great 


ee on 





ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 135 
raid that took place in 1856. Xigue-Xigue, Machubas, 


Monte Alegre, and innumerable fazendas were pillaged 
and left desolate at a comparatively recent date. One 
town alone had escaped amongst the general ruin of 
the rest. This was Bom Jesus da Lapa, the Mecca 
of the Sertanejos, held inviolate. Its fine position on 
a hill made it remarkable. Near it existed a strange 
cave, whose stalactites and stalagmites gave it the 
appearance of a church not made with hands, but 
built by Nature for the worship of the great forces 
that had created it. Its long and tortuous passages 
were full of bones of ancient animals, and that no 
circumstance should be wanting to contribute to its 
sanctity a curious legend rose. 

There, it was said, once lived a penitent, a man 
who, having soiled his soul with deeds of violence, 
had retired into the desert to pass his life in prayer 
for the remission of his sins. A jaguar, attracted by 
his sanctity, kept him supplied with food. Thus 
sanctified by Nature and religion, the place became a 
goal of pilgrimages for the inhabitants of all the 
Sertoes, from distant Piauhy and from Sergipe, down 
to the borders of Goyaz. 

Upon the walls of the chapel of the sanctuary were 
hung numerous votive offerings as is customary in 
sites of pilgrimages, where legs and arms and fingers, 
moulded in wax, attest the cures vouchsafed, or ships 
are hung by pious mariners who have escaped a storm. 

In the chapel of the Bom Jesus da Lapa were hung 
up guns and knives. Bandits who entered fully 
armed were awestruck, and, bursting into tears, felt 
their souls touched with ecstasy. They thought upon 


136 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


the crimes they had committed, most likely with the 
very arms they carried in their hands. A loathing 
seized them, as it so often seizes drunkards after a 
debauch. At once they made a resolution to sin 
no more, and to remove temptation from their hands 
hung up their instruments of crime before the Infant 
Jesus and fell upon the ground. No doubt they felt 
relieved when they had thus poured out their souls 
and given up their arms into the keeping of the 
sacred Child, who smiled upon them from the walls. 
Their repentance was sincere, as all repentances are 
quite sincere, so far as they are movements of the grace 
interior. As they passed out into the sun they must 
have felt new men, chastened and lightened of 
the burden of their crimes. Perhaps they felt 
pangs of regret at leaving the blunderbuss upon whose 
stock was cut in crosses the number of the lives they 
owed, just as men always feel regret to leave behind 
them an old comrade or a piece of well-remembered 
furniture. 

However, life in the Sertdo had its own complica- 
tions and its exigencies. The chiefest is the means of 
self-defence, for there, above all places in the world, 
man is the wolf of man. Most likely in a day or 
two, finding themselves, as they would say, “sem 
sombra,”* when deprived of arms, they took the road 
to the first town and purchased better and more 
modern weapons to carry on the fight. Of the three 
forces that beset mankind—the world, the devil, and 
the flesh—the world is the most potent enemy, for it 


* Literally, “without shade,” the sun being the enemy in lands 
of sun. 





ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 137 


includes the other two, and its attacks are far more 
subtle and far harder to resist. 

As no society, even in a robbers’ cave, can live 
without some ordinances, or at the least some bye-laws 
for its own protection, a curious custom had arisen in 
this most turbulent of all the districts of Brazil. It 
was well recognised that farms and cattle, even towns, 
were liable to be attacked, pillaged, or carried off ; 
but by a curious distinction, with rare exceptions, 
individual property was safe. ‘Thus a man, even with- 
out arms, could traverse the wild district on the banks 
of the Rio das Egoas on his journey to the coast, 
although his saddle-bags were full of gold-dust or 
diamonds from the mines. In the same way a 
stranger who had no part in any of the factions that 
abounded and made desolate the land was equally 
secure. Sometimes a pedlar leading a pack mule 
would at the crossing of some stream, or on a lonely 
track meandering through the impenetrable woods, 
find himself suddenly confronted with a band of 
bandits all armed to the teeth. The chief would 
usually approach him, as he sat tremb/ing on his 
mule, and pass the time of day. Then he would ask 
him for a handful of cigars, throw his leg over his 
horse’s neck, and sitting sideways, light one of them 
with his flint and steel, then, after handing out the 
rest amongst his followers, turn to the pedlar and 
bid him “ go with God,” and the whole troop would 
disappear into the woods. 

As the news of the building of Canudos slowly 
percolated through this wild district, bringing with it 
the tidings that not only would the man who joined 


138 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Antonio Conselheiro be in safety from all pursuit of 
the authorities, but would be preserved from the 
destruction of mankind so soon to come about, than 
hundreds of its wild inhabitants flocked to the 
prophet’s side. Canudos formed the point of junction 
for all the roving bands of bandits, of cattle thieves 
and broken men, who for years past had infested all 
the territory between the River Sado Francisco and the 
Rio das Egoas—in fact, from Piauhy down to the 
province of Goyaz. 

These men, though robbers, and in most cases 
murderers, were deeply tinged with religion (or super- 
stition), and the fame of Antonio Conselheiro’s preach- 
ing, joined to his opposition to the Government, drew 
them like iron towards a magnet, and of course greatly 
increased his power. After the failure of the mission 
of the friars, the Government seems to have deter- 
mined on a policy of inactivity, hoping perhaps that 
when the novelty wore off the movement soon would 
disappear. If they had any such design, it shows 
their absolute misconception of the character of the 
inhabitants of the Sertado. Slow to decide, and indolent, 
as was their usual attitude,'no people in the world 
was more determined, or less daunted by ill-fortune 
when once the die was cast. Unlike their Gaucho 
cousins on the plains of Rio Grande or in the Argen- 
tine—men ready to revolt or follow any leader, turbu- 
lent, but yet inconstant, soon discouraged, and ready 
to disband their forces and return to their homes—the 
Sertanejos were of adamant. Misfortune only made 
them more determined, and they were always most to 
be feared after a check or a defeat. On such occa- 





ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 139 


sions a surprise attack was always to be expected from. 
them. The rugged nature of their country, with its 
hard climate and its pathless wilds, was greatly in 
their favour for all such enterprises and for ambushes. 
Their upbringing, always at war with Nature, their 
tinge of Indian blood, and their religious fervour, 
made them an enemy never to be despised by those 
who knew them best. This was the error of the 
Government, who held them cheaply for their want 
of discipline. 

In 1896 the storm, which had so long been 
brewing, burst out with violence. 


CHAPTER X 


Jusr as in greater States wars frequently break out 
from insufficient or from futile causes, so in the small 
community of the Sertdo hostilities between the 
prophet’s followers and the republic were brought 
about by a small matter, not worth the sacrifice of 
life. No doubt the real cause lay deeper, as is usually 
the case in wars waged by more formidable powers. 

Antonio Conselheiro had contracted in the town of 
Joazeiro, not far off from the River Sao Francisco, for 
a quantity of wood. The contract happened to have 
been made with two town councillors or magistrates. 
When the time expired some difficulty arose as to the 
delivery. This was accentuated by the fact that the 
contractor, a year or two before, happening to be at 
that time a judge in Bom Conselho, had, after a dis- 
pute, been chased out of the town by the prophet’s 
followers and put in danger of his life. Whether he 
wished to avenge the insult or really was unable to 
implement his bargain, only himself could tell. At 
any rate, the wood was not forthcoming at the 
appointed time, and after several unavailing protests 
Antonio Conselheiro prepared to attack the town with 
a strong party of his followers, 

Times had changed since he bowed his head 


140 


—— eer ——" 


a 


LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 141 


beneath the insults of the world. Now he stood forth 
a leader and a redresser of abuses, little disposed to 
sit down patiently under injustices. In 1897 the 
Governor of the State of Bahia wrote to the President 
of the Republic in the following terms : 

“T have received,” he said, “from Dr. Arlindo 
Leoni, Judge of the district of Joazeiro, an urgent 
telegram telling me that in a day or two his town will 
be attacked by Antonio Conselheiro and his followers, 
and asking me for help to stay the panic and the 
exodus already taking place. I answered him that I 
could not send troops upon asimple rumour, and recom- 
mended him to guard the approaches to the town, and 
if he saw the rebels really advance, send me a telegram ; 
then I would succour him with a military force... . 
I ordered the General in command of the district to 
send a hundred men to Joazeiro as soon as he received 
a message from the Judge that they were necessary to 
repel attack. The Judge informed me that Antonio 
Conselheiro’s forces were about two days’ journey from 
the town, so I have now despatched the soldiers under 
Lieutenant Pires Feireira to join the forces of the 
town.” 

From such a little matter, the mere refusal to 
implement a contract, great events were destined to 
ensue. For the past quarter of a century, in fact since 
1874, Antonio Conselheiro had been known in the 
Sertao. Little by little his fame had increased in all 
the district, and the traces of his passage were manifest 
in every village and each town. Here was a chapel, 
there a church, and farther on a cemetery, raised from 
a state of ruin and decay, rebuilt, or re-enclosed 


142 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 
entirely by his efforts and by the labour of his 


followers. 

Upon the whole, in the material sense, his influence 
had made for good; for though he did but little 
towards establishing a reasonable line of conduct, he 
was a rallying-point for people who felt themselves 
deserted absolutely by all the powers that be. His 
influence was great because of the success of his last ex- 
ploits. In 1893, at Masseté, he had gained a victory in 
the field, and later on a moral victory, when the troops 
sent against him had returned without a blow struck 
or a shot fired, simply before the terror of his name. 

The apostolic mission of the Capuchin had been a 
failure, and from all sides recruits continued to arrive. 
Frei Monte Marciano has left on record, in his 
“Relatorio,” that the armed forces in Canudos at the 
time of his apostolic visit numbered about ‘‘a thousand 
men, all armed and vigorous.” The town itself was 
situated in a position naturally strong, and above all 
Antonio Conselheiro had the advantage of public 
sympathy, for the whole district deemed him a saviour. 

Against this town, situated in such a good position 
tor defence and so well garrisoned and amply pro- 
visioned, the Government sent only a hundred soldiers 
of the line. These were to join the half-armed, semi- 
disciplined and scanty militia of the town of Joazeiro 
—an inconsiderable force. This was to court defeat. 
So little did the Government understand the serious- 
ness of the campaign in front of them, that, in 
November, 1896, General Federico Solon, in command 
of the district, wrote to the General saying he had 
received orders to march against Canudos with a force 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 143 


of about one hundred soldiers, and judged them amply 
numerous enough for what he had to do. On the 
7th of November they arrived in Joazeiro, to the 
astonishment of the inhabitants, who knew the strength 
of the Jaguncos advancing to attack. At once there 
was a general exodus, families fleeing with their 
children and such portion of their household goods as 
could be carried upon carts. As always happens in 
such circumstances, the town was full of people well 
disposed towards the sectaries. All these were over- 
joyed, and secretly sent out messengers to the Jagungos, 
telling them the small number of the troops. 

The difficulties of transport and of provisions were 
enormous, for beyond Joazeiro no food was to be 
obtained ; pasture and grass were scarce, roads non- 
existent, and the track led through deep defiles, bushy 
and strewn with rocks. The troops left Joazeiro on 
the night of the 12th, so as to avoid a start on the 
13th, deemed an unlucky day. 

Two hundred kilometres separated Joazeiro from 
the prophet’s stronghold. Summer* was just begin- 
ing. The nights were icy, whilst the noonday sun 
poured down like fire, making the change of tempera- 
ture at sunset more difficult to bear. ‘The wells were 
few and far between, and the two guides hired at 
Joazeiro not over trustworthy. Moreover, most of 
the troops were men of colour from the hot regions 
of the coast, unused to cold and unaccustomed to 
long marches amongst hills. None of them were 
broken to frontier warfare, and all were quite at sea in 
wars of ambushes, surprises, and of night alarms. The 


* In the southern hemisphere, 


144 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


season was unusually dry and hot, and the scant 
herbage had almost disappeared. The trees began to 
shed their leaves under the scorching heat, and looked 
like skeletons. At the rare springs and pools the 
cattle crowding to slake their thirst had trampled them 
into a slough of mud. In the Sertao in summer few 
people travel after ten o’clock, in the fierce heat that 
turns the sandy trails into a sea of fire. Those who 
are forced to do so travel on horseback or on mules. 
The unlucky soldiers had to march on foot, wrapped 
in a cloud of dust. The country in itself was poor, 
the very scrub falling into the category of what is 
known as Caatanduva*—that is, the “‘ weak bush.” 
The expedition had to cross a country wild and 
uncultivated, almost unknown to most Brazilians; a 
land of thirst in which all human habitations of 
necessity are rare, and even these the soldiers found 
deserted—an evil omen for an invading force in any 
country. The first day they were forced to camp 
upon the open plains only two leagues from Joazeiro, 
and passed the night short of provisions and shivering 
with cold. 

Next day a stage of forty kilometres faced them. 
Water was only to be found at a little lake called 
“A lagoa do Boi,” where still a little water lingered 
in the bottom of the pool. They reached it almost 
exhausted, though without attack from the Jagungos, 
and slept upon the ground, far too fatigued to put up 
tents or do more than light a fire or two. For the 


* From Caa, ‘ bushwood,” and Ahiva, “weak or bad,” in 
Guarani or Tupi. 
t The bullocks’ water-hole or pool. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 145 


next few days they passed a veritable wa crucis, 
finding the villages deserted, and seeing nothing but a 
few goats amongst the rocks, as shy as deer, and, now 
and then, some cattle which had run half wild and 
galloped off at their approach. The mirage mocked 
them, spreading illusory lakes a mile in front, and 
then when they had struggled on, hoping to slake their 
thirst, vanishing altogether, or moving farther off 

At last, on the 1gth, they reached Uaua, a miserable 
village, with two straggling streets that ran into a 
square, sandy and desolate, set round with cabins and 
with huts. A store or two, flat-roofed and stuccoed, 
with iron-grated windows, and several hitching posts 
before the door, a church in bad repair, and a series of 
corrals, to which on fair days Vaqueiros drove their 
cattle or their mules, were the chief feature of the 
wretched little place. The fairs held upon feast-days 
were the occasions when the town put on an air of 
animation, that it put off again the instant that the 
fair was over, and fell back into sleep. 

Throughout Brazil and in most parts of South 
America the siesta wraps the world in sleep during 
the hotter hours, a death-like silence steals upon the 
world, and nothing but the buzzing of the flies is 
heard, or the occasional stamping of a horse tied up 
beneath a tree. The flag upon the “ Comandancia ”’ 
flaps lazily against the staff, like the leach of a sail 
flaps in a calm, or hangs down limp like a dead vul- 
ture set up to scare the parrots from a cornfield. So 
deeply are its votaries given over to their slumbers, 
that a man may ride into a store through the broad 


doorway, stooping a little as he passes under it, and 
10 


146 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


rap with his whip’s handle on the counter; then, 
finding no response, wheel round his horse and ride 
him out again, leaving the owner of the store unaware 
of his visit, and still sleeping like the dead. The 
sleepers in the little town of Uaua were awakened 
by the strains of a bugle sounding in the square. The 
unusual sound of martial music prevailed over the 
habit of a lifetime, and they appeared to welcome to 
their town the force the Government had sent. 
Great was their astonishment to see halted upon the 
plaza the miserable, thirst-stricken, and forlorn-looking 
little band of soldiers that had just struggled in and 
thrown themselves upon the ground in weariness. 
The men were dusty, footsore, and tired out. ‘Their 
ranks were badly dressed, and most of them carried 
their jackets hanging from their guns. Their officers 
were mounted upon mules or pack-ponies that they 
had bought or commandeered in Joazeiro, and the 
whole aspect of the little force was melancholy 
and dispiriting. 

After a rest they set up bivouacs—for tents were 
non-existent as they had no pack animals to carry 
them. Cutting down palm-leaves, they built up little 
shelters against the scorching sun, and _ stationed 
sentinels at the four corners of the square in order to 
command the roads. Then they made coffee and ate 
a miserable meal, having no energy to cook after their 
sufferings. By all the rules of military strategy and 
of common-sense, they ought to have pushed on 
towards Canudos an hour or two before the sun was 
up, to avoid the heat, and to endeavour to surprise 
the prophet’s stronghold, for in a prompt surprise lay 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 14.7 


their scant chances of success. This, the commander 
found impossible owing to the condition of his men 
and the fact that the road before them ran through a 
desert, in which the man who wandered from the 
track was doomed to death by hunger or by thirst. 
The guides from Joazeiro were uncertain of the track, 
or said they were, most likely sympathising secretly 
with Antonio Conselheiro, and willing to lose time. 

The 2oth passed in rest and in the search for informa- 
tion, both on the situation andthe road. At nightfall 
the commander, going on his rounds, found the whole 
town deserted, for the inhabitants had silently with- 
drawn, either because they feared to be exposed to the 
attack which they looked on as certain, or on an order 
from the prophet sent to them secretly. This fact 
should have alarmed the commander of the troops had 
he but taken in the danger of his situation and the 
impossibility of receiving reinforcements at such a 
distance from his base. He took no heed of the 
occurrence, and the troops lay down beneath their 
bivouacs, sleeping as tranquilly as if Antonio Consel- 
heiro and his men were alla thousand miles away from 
them. An hour or two before the sun rose, the 
favourite moment for attack on every frontier, the 
advance guard of the Jagungos appeared. Formed in 
procession, carrying banners of the saints and singing 
hymns, their army seemed a band of pilgrims mount- 
ing a Calvary. All were armed in some fashion or 
other, with guns and swords, cattle-goads, axes, scythes 
set upright upon poles, or some rude weapon or 
another which they found ready to their hands. 

All carried knives, and many bore old-fashioned 


148 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


flint-lock pistols and bell-mouthed blunderbusses. 
Some, in default of other arms, had clubs, and some 
rough slings, which they used commonly for herding 
cattle on the plains. A motley crew, but all inspired 
with faith in their great Councillor, who had assured 
them of the victory over the soldiers of the “ Dog.”* 
Some told their beads as they advanced, and some 
prayed loudly, brandishing their arms. ‘Though they 
advanced quite openly and singing as they marched to 
the number of about three thousand, as an eye-witness 
says, they met with no resistance till they arrived upon 
the outskirts of the town. 

Fearing an ambush, Pajehu, who was in chief 
command, halted his followers and stayed their 
psalmody, and then sent out some scouts. These 
penetrated to the sentinels placed at the four cross 
roads, and found them sleeping at their posts, and all 
the town asleep. As they returned with the astound- 
ing news towards the main body, they encountered 
three advanced guards, who, springing to their feet, 
fired off their carbines and retreated to the town. 
Roused from his slumbers, dressed in his shirt and 
drawers, as he had risen from his bed, the colonel in 
command hurried down to the plaza with a bugler by 
his side, who sounded the alarm. 

Soldiers came scurrying from their bivouacs, and 
from the houses of the town, where they were 
sleeping to shelter from the cold, dressing and 
loading as they ran. Scant time they had to form 
their ranks, though an old sergeant died bravely at 


* The “Dog” typified the republic. All its laws they called 
“the law of the dog”—“ A lei do Cao,” 


ae _ 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 149 


his post trying to stem the tide. With yells and cries 
of “Bom Jesus!” and “Viva Conselheiro!” the 
Jagungos fell upon them, The line was never formed, 
and in an instant in the semi-darkness all was con- 
fusion, and the troops struggled for their lives. The 
instinct of self-preservation, or the remains of discipline, 
made them stand together and retreat towards the 
houses, where they re-formed and fired upon the 
sectaries from windows and from doors. 

This was the means of the salvation of a good many 
of the troops, for the Jagunc¢os, grouped in masses on the 
square, replied but feebly to their fire. Huddled 
together like a flock of sheep, exposed to fire from 
modern rifles, and only able to reply with blunder- 
busses and old-fashioned guns, the followers of the 
prophet soon suffered a considerable loss. Decimated, 
without being able to reply, the Jagunco leaders 
saw their only chance was in a general attack 
upon the houses where the soldiers were entrenched. 
Grouped round their sacred banner they came on, 
shouting their war-cries mixed with pious adjurations, 
though every volley stretched dozens of them on the 
ground. Brandishing their goads and knives, they 
reached the houses where the colonel, still in his 
shirt and drawers, stood giving out cartridges to his 
fast falling men, under a heavy fire. 

A sub-lieutenant, standing half naked on the bed 
from which he had been roused by the attack, stood 
bravely firing through the window, until a bullet 
stretched him lifeless on the bed in which so lately 
he had slept. It seemed as if the houses must be 
carried and the troops overwhelmed in the impetuous 


150 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


rush of the Jaguncos, who came on careless of their 
lives, disdaining even to take cover in the fury of 
their charge. The rush just failed, and slowly, 
vociferating imprecations, the sectaries fell back, and, 
as by magic, all disappeared into the woods. 

As they were disappearing the sun rose, as he rises 
in the tropics, without an interval of twilight, and in 
the morning light the town looked tragical. Dead 
bodies lay about in front of every doorstep, and blood 
had soaked the balconies and window frames. Three 
or four houses had been set on fire, and in the lurid 
light cast by their flames upon the scene, the wounded 
tried to drag themselves to shelter, whilst the exhausted 
soldiers, too tired to aid them, throwing themselves 
down half lifeless on the ground, slept as men sleep 
after a night of struggle for their lives. 

About two hundred of the sectaries were killed or 
dangerously wounded, and all the latter the soldiers 
conscientiously put out of their suffering when they 
awoke from sleep. The troops had ten men killed, 
amongst them the brave sub-lieutenant slain upon his 
bed, a sergeant and the two guides that they had hired 
in Joazeiro. The doctor of the expedition had gone 
mad during the combat, either from terror or from the 
hardships he had undergone upon the march. Thus 
he was useless to the sixteen wounded, whose wounds 
were dressed in the best fashion they were able by 
their own comrades, who tore their shirts up to make 
bandages. 

The Government had gained a Pyrrhic victory. 
The colonel still had sixty soldiers, unwounded but 
much discouraged, for, for the first time, they could 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 151 


appreciate the courage of the enemy and understand 
what difficulties lay before them if they pursued their 
task. Placed as he was, cumbered with wounded 
men tor whom he had no transport, both his guides 
killed, and totally without the means of getting any 
reinforcements, one course alone was open to the 
commander of the troops. At all events, he had to 
evacuate the place before the darkness should expose 
him to a fresh attack on his exhausted men. Their 
comrades buried hurriedly in the cemetery, the troops 
at once set out upon the march under the torrid sun. 
Most luckily for them, the Jaguncos, after the check 
they had received, did not appear again, for had they 
done so not a single man would have remained alive. 
Four days of agony were passed upon the trail to 
Joazeiro, which they reached more like a mob of 
fugitives than like a band of soldiers who had stood 
bravely to their arms against superior force. The 
water-holes had nearly all dried up, and by the second 
day provisions were exhausted, and the unlucky men 
struggled along supporting one another, falling down 
but to die. 

When they arrived at Joazeiro and staggered into 
the town, the population looked on them with amaze- 
ment, so great a change had come upon them all in 
the disastrous campaign. Dusty and ragged, half- 
starved and wounded, tortured by thirst, and footsore 
with the road, they scarce had spirit to relate all that 
had happened to them. The very sight of them 
caused such a panic in the town that the men fit to 
bear arms ran armed into the square, thinking that the 
Jagungos might be expected to attack the town at any 


152 LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 


minute, as they supposed that they were following up 
the trail. Trains with their engine fires lighted and 
a full head of steam stood waiting in the station, ready 
to take the inhabitants away at the first symptom of 
alarm. 

Nothing occurred, as the Jaguncos had no idea of 
following up their Pyrrhic conquerors, for they knew 
well enough they had inflicted a reverse upon the 
Government. 


CHAPTER XI 


Rumovr, ever an active agent in countries like Brazil, 
soon magnified the situation far beyond due bounds. 
The most absurd report of the strength of the forces 
that Antonio Conselheiro had at his disposal soon 
began to be believed. It was asserted that he 
was well supplied with arms, and with artillery, 
by the Monarchists. In point of fact the party 
favourable to a restitution of the Imperial power was 
negligible. No arms, except a few dozen modern 
rifles which had been smuggled in, had reached 
Canudos, and artillery there was none. Upon the 
other hand, the withdrawal of the Government forces 
had brought in hundreds of recruits, though it is 
most improbable that at the most the prophet ever 
disposed of more than five thousand fighting men, 
and even these were quite inadequately armed. 

Still, it behoved the Government to make “an act 
of presence”* by fitting out an expedition large 
enough to ensure success. Therefore they got to- 
gether a formidable force—that is, formidable for such 
a purpose—and one that ought to have been able to 
reduce the sectaries had it been rightly used. 

The federal Governor wrote to the Capital demand- 


* “Um acto de presenga.” 


153 


154 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


ing an armed force of about six hundred soldiers, with 
two Krupp field-guns and four Nordenfeldts. This 
imposing force would have seemed ridiculous for the 
reduction of an open village, defended but by men 
armed with antique weapons, had it not been for the 
difficulties of the road and the peculiar nature of the 
warfare which the last expedition had disclosed. 

The whole military force was placed under the 
direction of Colonel Pedro Nunes Tamarindo, a man 
experienced in warfare, but not in the particular kind 
of fighting that he was called upon to meet. In the 
first encounter at Uaua, the Jaguncos had allowed 
themselves to be engaged precisely in the circum- 
stances that were unfavourable to them and advan- 
tageous to the troops. Massed in the plaza of the 
town, they fell in heaps when exposed to modern 
rifle fire. The example was a warning to them, and 
they never fell into the same mistake during the 
warfare that ensued. It is probable that in the attack 
on Uaua, blinded by fanaticism, and relying on superior 
numbers, they thought to carry everything in the first 
rush. They were deceived, and henceforth took full 
advantage of their knowledge of the Sertado, their 
great mobility, and of the difficult nature of the 
country through which the enemy was bound to 
pass. Few countries in the world are naturally easier 
to defend. The thick, impenetrable bush that juts 
out in islands and peninsulas into the plains, the hills 
covered with boulders, the tracks that wind about 
knee-deep in sand or mud according to the season ; 
the want of water in the summer and the floods in 
winter, and above all the scarcity of provisions, render 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 155 


a campaign in the Sertéo a formidable undertaking 
even to seasoned troops. 

The plan of Colonel Tamarindo was to attack by 
means of two converging columns, and so to break 
the resistance of the sectaries before he had arrived at 
his objective, hoping that they would fall into the 
trap. In reality, no plan could possibly have been 
less likely of success in such a country and with such 
enemies. The governmental forces entered the town 
of Monte Santo on the 27th of December, 1896. 
This town, the birthplace of the missionary friar 
Appollonio de Todi,* was situated on the slope of a 
hill, from which all the surrounding country could be 
seen. It lies in the extreme north of the province of 
Bahia, close to the frontiers of the States of Piauhy, 
of Alagoas and Sergipé, not far from the River Vasa- 
Barris, a considerable stream. It was there that Frei 
Appollonio de Todi had reared his temple and made 
his Calvary, which, paved with pieces of the whitest 
quartz imaginable, winds its way up the hill. Monte 
Santo, situated as it was, not more than thirty kilo- 
metres from the railhead at Queimadas, formed the 
base of attack for all the expeditions which the 
Government found itself forced to send. The town 
had never seen so great a force, or one so well 
equipped with tents and military stores and with 
artillery. At the review the colonel held the first 
day after he arrived, he mustered five hundred and 
forty-three men of the rank-and-file, with fourteen 
officers and three doctors. To these were added a 
small artillery division with the two Krupp cannons 


* See Introduction. 


156 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


and the four Nordenfeldt quick-firing guns. Besides all 
these there were about two hundred police. Nothing 
had ever been seen before on such a scale in the 
quiet town to which so many pilgrims used to resort 
in times of peace. All the day long the inhabitants 
were in the streets or straying close to the encamp- 
ment, gazing admiringly at the new uniforms and 
brilliant rifles of the soldiers, and looking with amaze- 
ment at the artillery. ‘The Vaqueiros, who had come 
in from the country, tied their campeao* under a tree 
and passed the day in staring at the troops. Some, 
genuinely alarmed at the awful-looking guns, mounted 
their horses and returned to the shelter of the Caatin- 
gas ; others, who had been sent as spies, galloped off 
towards Canudos to tell what they had seen. No one 
took any notice of them in the general festivities that 
were taking place. So, whilst the people of the town 
and all the officers of the expedition thought that 
victory was secure, and a mere military procession 
with a show of force would settle the whole thing, 
Antonio Conselheiro was informed of the last detail 
of their strength, and laid his plans to compass their 
defeat. All were not thus deceived, and many of the 
country people, wrapped in their ponchos, as they 
lounged about the street, looked on the troops ironi- 
cally, foreseeing that the festivities would end in tears, 
for as they said, ‘“‘ They are delivered like dumb oxen 
into the hands of our good Councillor.” 

The town authorities gave a banquet to the officers. 
At this festivity the discourses, packed with allusions 


* Literally “the Champion ”—i.e., the best horse. “The Gauchos 
use the phrase “ El Credito,”’ in the same way, for their best horse. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 157 


to “our Brazilian mothers,” our “ great and glorious 
land,” and freedom, themes which with little variation 
re-occur in every speech in South America, brought 
forth the usual cheers. Our Country, Glory, and 
Eternal Liberty, a goddess accountable for millions of 
ineptitudes in politics and in orations, were duly 
toasted. All agreed that in a week or two, or at the 
most a month, the expedition would return “ bearing 
the laurel with their arms.” It was the general 
conviction that victory was assured, and all looked 
forward to the time “ when the barbarity which has 
been the scandal of our native land shall disappear 
and be succeeded by a reign of progress and of peace.” 
All this, of course, as is the case in all such speeches 
and on such occasions, was to be brought about by 
blood, for blood is the baptismal water by which 
peace is ensured. As peril often raises the spirits of 
an army, so does the certainty of victory serve to de- 
press the energy of troops, making them over-confident, 
and apt to fall into a panic if anything goes wrong. 
This was the case in Monte Santo, where the expedi- 
tion remained for fifteen days, banqueting, speechify- 
ing, and losing time. With such an enemy as they 
had to face, success depended upon speed. Had they 
marched on without delay, they might have found 
Canudos unprepared, ready to fall into their hands. 
As it was, the prophet had had ample time to elabo- 
rate the plansfor his defence. Part of the munitions 
had been left at the railhead at Queimadas, and these 
had not arrived during the fifteen days that had been 
spent at Monte Santo in banqueting and idleness. As 
often happens in the like circumstances after a loss 


158 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


of time, there comes a fit of energy and a desire to 
embark at once upon the enterprise. This happened 
now, and Colonel Tamarindo, having left half of his 
munitions, determined to halve those he had with him 
at Monte Santo and start at once upon the track. 
This he did, not being able to find sufficient transport 
and knowing that his success depended on his speed. 
The resolution was fatal, and his brigade marched out 
to certain ruin and defeat. 

Had he but followed his first plan or an advance in 
double columns, one marching at a little distance from 
the other, all might have been well. This plan 
would have allowed him to make use of his artillery 
upon a double flank, and then converge upon Canudos, 
as the objective of his march. Colonel Tamarindo, 
onthe contrary, started from Monte Santo on the 13th 
of January (1897) in a single column, and marched in 
close-formed ranks. In the deep sand the marching 
columns suffered horribly from dust, and the men soon 
commenced to flag, after their period of inaction in 
the town. Water was scarce, and hardly to be met 
with, and when they were attacked their close forma- 
tion made them an easy target to the hidden enemy. 
The road from Monte Santo to Canudos—if road it can 
be called, being in reality but a mere cattle track—runs 
through the Curiaca valley, passing at first through 
cultivated lands. Then it turns to the east by the slopes 
of Acaru and becomes stonier. From there it crosses 
several ridges of foothills, passing through winding 
bush paths, and then comes out into the open at a 
place called Lagem de Dentro, a sort of plateau of 
about nine hundred feet in height. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 159 


Here they encamped, after two days of painful march- 
ing inthe sand. The two Krupp guns had terribly 
delayed their progress, for the roads were so bad that 
sappers had to go in front to prepare a path for them. 
This took away the mobility of the column, and on 
mobility depended its success. Had it been able to 
arrive before Canudos in a reasonable time, and open 
fire at once with its artillery well supplied with 
ammunition, the campaign might have been over in a 
week. As it turned out, the stars fought for the 
prophet, for the commander of the forces of the 
Government fell into innumerable mistakes. From 
Lagem de Dentro the road runs through a deep 
and narrow pass to the next halting-place, called 
Ipureiras. The marches were determined, as they are 
in Africa, by the distance of the water-holes. After a 
long day they camped at Ipureiras, a miserable place, 
with only a small water-hole, and dominated on every 
side by hills. Luckily for them, the night passed 
without attack. Next day they arrived at Penedo, 
half-way to Canudos, and their spirits once again 
began torise. From this point, the road became even 
more difficult. Cattle tracks crossed it repeatedly, 
making it extremely hard to keep on the right path. 
All day they weltered in the sand, without a drop of 
water or a particle of shade against the sun, making 
but scarce two leagues, and reaching a deserted farm, 
called Mulunga, as night began to fall. Fires just ex- 
tinguished, but still smouldering, told of encampments 
of the enemy, and in the distance clouds of dust were 
rising on the horizon far away, raised by the cattle as 
they were driven in towards the town. Everything 


160 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


spoke of the proximity of the enemy. The soldiers 
slept upon their arms. During the night vague 
shadows came and went near the encampment, and 
once or twice the alarm was sounded, so that by 
morning they were glad to leave the place. ‘Three 
days of steady marching still intervened between them 
and Canudos ; but, by this time, the condition of the 
troops had become perilous. Provisions had run low, 
and, at Mulunga, they were obliged to kill their last 
two bullocks, whose flesh furnished a mere mouthful 
when shared amongst five or six hundred men. 
Disaster stared them in the face, and, in their difficulty, 
Colonel Tamarindo, being ashamed to retreat before a 
shot was fired, came to the almost desperate resolution 
of pushing on, hoping to take Canudos with a rush, 
and then secure provisions for his men. ‘They started 
before daylight, and the first rays of light disclosed 
the fact that the men with the pack-mules, hired in 
Monte Santo, had all deserted and gone back. One 
guide remained, a man called Domingos Jesuino, and 
he proved loyal tothem. By devious paths he led the 
column to a place called Rancho das Pedras, where 
they bivouacked, being too exhausted to erect their 
tents, or to do anything but sleep. 

Only two leagues now separated them from Canu- 
dos, and all night long they saw the camp fires of the 
Jaguncos, twinkling like stars on every side of them. 
Still there was no attack. At daybreak, hungry and 
footsore, they broke camp, and with their artillery 
dragged along by ropes, began to move towards the 
town. In front of them rose Mount Cambaio, like 
an enchanted city, its rocks worn by the weather into 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 161 


pinnacles and towers. It seemed to bar the road, but 
their guide led them by a path close to the foot of it. 
They passed it shuddering, waiting for the attack, so 
long delayed that it had made the soldiers panicky. 
Beyond Cambaio the road runs straight without a 
turn, between high cliffs. Far in the distance, like a 
landscape seen at the wrong end of a telescope, 
appeared Canudos, brown and menacing. 

Though the road seemed quite level, there were 
depressions in it, invisible till they approached them, 
and in one of these, as they toiled wearily along, their 
fingers on the triggers of their guns, the long expected, 
long delayed attack was launched on them. Upon the 
rocks on each side of the road, as if by magic, the 
Jaguncgos suddenly appeared. Rifle-fire crackled to 
the accompaniment of yells of ‘Bom Jesus!” and 
“ Viva Conselheiro !”” Homeric taunts were hurled 
at them, the Jaguncos yelling, ‘“‘ Let the weakness of 
the Government advance !”’* and, under the brisk fire, 
three or four soldiers fell. 

The situation became critical. A dangerous tremor 
ran along the line, making it quiver like a snake. A 
moment more and it would have given way, and, if 
it had once broken, not a man would have returned 
alive. However, in most crises, there stands out a 
man to meet and dominate them. Major Febronio, 
rushing to the front, in a few moments inspired 
confidence, and the exhausted, thirst-tortured soldiers 
put up a brave fight. From every side, rocks were 
showered down upon them, but they were able to 
stand off the Jagungos with their artillery. A rush in 


* “ Avanca fraqueza do governo.” 
II 


162 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


superior force broke up the soldiers into groups, which 
still advanced to clear themselves from the defile. 
Little by little superior weapons carried the day, and, 
after a tumultuous struggle, the troops arrived upon 
the outskirts of the town and hurriedly encamped, 
after three hours of fight. The ammunition was 
nearly done, owing to the folly of the commander in 
having left so much of it behind. Still, so far, they 
had achieved a victory, as nearly three hundred 
corpses, stretched upon the ground in front of them, 
were there to testify. The actual losses of the troops 
were ten or twelve men killed and sixty wounded. 
The last formed a grave problem, as lack of transport 
forced them to be carried in rough litters, which 
rendered the retreat both slow and difficult. Once 
more their triumph was illusive, and, situated as they 
were, without provisions and obliged to go for water 
under fire, their position was most perilous, even with 
victory in their grasp. As soon as they had rested for 
an hour or two, Colonel Tamarindo held a hasty 
council, and put the only two alternatives that were 
possible before his officers. If they pushed on at 
daybreak and attacked the town, in the event ot 
carrying it at once, provisions were secure; but ir 
they failed in the face of such superior forces, and 
with ammunition running short, their fate was sealed, 
and the whole expedition would be lost. 

So they decided, most unwillingly, upon retreat. 
All through the night there were alarms, and, when 
day broke, they saw they were surrounded by the 
enemy. Nothing remained but to break through at 
any cost, before starvation rendered them an easy 


~*~ 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 163 


prey to the Jaguncos, who were thirsting for their 
blood. They observed a man, tall, bronzed and 
hideous, his face contracted in a savage grin, mar- 
shalling the enemy. Standing amongst a rain of 
bullets, he bore apparently a charmed life, and, as he 
passed along the ranks, a savage yell, like that raised 
by wild Indians, broke from his followers. This was 
the celebrated Pajehu, who, certainly on that occasion, 
confirmed his well-known courage amply, and dis- 
played most of the qualities of a guerilla general. 

As the troops were forced once more to enter the 
defile below Monte Cambaio to gain the open road, 
Pajehu reserved his main attack till they were passing 
underneath the rocks. There, after lining all the 
cliffs with sharp-shooters, he himself headed a fierce 
rush on the retiring troops. So impetuous was the 
onslaught that the Jagungos soon were mixed up with 
the soldiers, and fought them hand to hand. Men 
strove with bayonets and with knives, with cattle 
goads, and with clubbed rifles, all fighting for their 
lives. One of the Krupp guns jammed and was 
silenced, and Pajehu, rushing up, like a warrior of the 
siege of Troy, threw his arms round its muzzle, 
shouting to his followers to overturn it and so block 
up the path. The other gun, firing at short range 
into the sectaries who followed him, opened a passage 
for the troops, who, after several hours of struggle, 
emerged upon the plain. 

Pajehu had learned a lesson, and, from that moment, 
the Jaguncos never attempted frontal attacks upon their 
enemy, but put in force the tactics, ten times more 
efficacious, of frontier warfare—surprises, ambushes, 


164 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


and feints which kept the forces of the Government 
always in alarm, without the chance of using their 
superior arms. After five days of agony, quite un- 
molested by the enemy, tortured by hunger and by 
thirst, footsore and wearied out with carrying the 
wounded, they reached their base again. The popu- 
lation, who had expected that they would return vic- 
torious, saw them march through the streets in silence. 
Covered with dust, their arms all rusted, their 
helmets, often replaced by great straw hats which 
they had plaited hurriedly at night to shield them 
from the sun, with blood-stained bandages, unwashed, 
unshaved, and miserable, they straggled through the 
streets, the picture of despair. No discipline was 
even attempted to be preserved, and the men marched 
in groups supporting one another, haggard and war- 
worn, and at the rear followed their colonel, wounded 
and mounted on a mule. 

So finished the much-talked-of expedition, the 
second that had failed before Canudos, in a lament- 
able style. A cry of rage ran through the country, 
and in the capital ministers were interpolated, and 
all resolved, as soon as possible, to raise a force so 
formidable that it was certain of success. But, far 
away, deep in the heart of the Sertdo, after the long 
processions, singing hymns and carrying banners, had 
borne the dead towards the cemeteries, joy filled the 
hearts of all the sectaries. 

Recruits flowed in from every side, bringing pro- 
visions with them. The trenches were extended 
right out to Cambaio, and all the rifles and the 
ammunition which the troops had left behind were 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 165 


carefully collected and made fit for service against the 
next attack. Once more the forces of the “ Dog” 
had been defeated, owing to the efficacy of the 
prophet’s supplications, for, during the attack, he had 
retired with a few faithful friends upon the beams 
of the half-finished church, and passed the time in 
prayer. When he descended and walked amongst his 
flock, men pressed to kiss his garment, and women, 
weeping as he passed, called down a blessing from on 
high upon their Councillor. 


CHAPTER XII 


In Rio de Janeiro, rage and disappointment knew no 
bounds, mixed, as it were, with a feeling of amaze- 
ment that men undisciplined and badly armed could 
have defeated the best troops they had to send. They 
did not pause to think that the defeats had been due 
more to the difficulty of the country than to the 
rebels’ arms. However, worse was still in store for 
them. It happened that the two defeats that the 
Jagungos had inflicted on the Government came at a 
time before it was consolidated, after the abdication 
of the Emperor. Several revolts had taken place in 
different portions of Brazil. At that time no one 
filled a greater space in public admiration than a 
certain colonel of infantry, one Antonio Moreira 
César, who had just returned from putting down a 
revolution in the south. His fame had gone before 
him, and he enjoyed a reputation as a brave but 
ferocious soldier, whose hands were steeped in blood. 

Diminutive in stature, with a weak chest and 
bandy legs, nothing in his exterior revealed his fever- 
ish energy. His face was pale, but inexpressive, his 
forehead high and bulging, and over it he wore a 
lock of hair brought forward to conceal his baldness. 


His whole appearance was as that of a figure in a 
166 


LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 167 


waxwork, and his slow gestures and halting speech 
completed the illusion of a low mentality. Nothing 
was farther from the truth. Brilliant in action, brave 
to temerity, he was at once patient and yet audacious 
in conception, a great endurer of all hardships, 
ambitious, revengeful, even to cruelty, but at the 
same time as true as steel towards the cause he had 
embraced. 

A true production of the tropics, he passed at once 
from a cold reserve to a demoniac fury, having the 
temperament of an epileptic, for his wild fits of rage 
savoured of madness, though at that time it had not © 
yet declared itself. Public opinion marked him out 
as the man most fitted to command against the 
sectaries, and, as is usually the case, public opinion 
showed itself favourable to the worst man for such a 
post. At the same time he had had great experience 
of frontier warfare, but in a field that differed widely 
from the Sertdo, in the wide prairies of the south. As 
soon as he was named commander of the expedition 
he set to work with all his energy to choose his 
officers and make the force he had to lead so formid- 
able as to ensure success. ‘The Government, that 
could not face another check, gave him full power in 
everything, putting the best troops in the country at 
his disposition and sparing no expense. In an in- 
credibly short time he got together thirteen hundred 
men, all picked from the best corps. His officers 
were men he could depend upon. Major Raphael 
Augusto Cunha Mattos commanded the artillery, 
which this time went well supplied with ammunition, 
amply sufficient for its work. The infantry was led 


168 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


by Captain Salomao da Rocha; and as in the two 
expeditions that had failed the want of cavalry had 
been felt grievously, a squadron under Captain Franco 
was added to the force. The State militia, not great 
in number, but composed of men accustomed to the 
country and to the tactics most in use in the Sertdo, 
was under the command of Colonel Tamarindo, who, 
after his disastrous retreat, was burning for revenge. 
Moreira César stayed but a few hours in Bahia, and 
at once pushed on to the railhead at Queimadas, 
arriving there from Rio de Janeiro, with all his forces, 
in the incredibly short period of five days. This 
exploit was to cost him dearly. Without a stop, 
except to leave a little garrison at Queimadas, he 
went on with his troops to Monte Santo, which he 
had chosen for his base. Hardly arrived there, either 
owing to his great exertions, or because the disease 
long dormant was now matured and ready to break 
out, he was seized with an epileptic fit. When he 
recovered he moved on to Quimguingua, a little 
village on the road. There a general council of 
doctors and of officers was held. The doctors strongly 
advised delay, at least for a few days, to give Moreira 
César time to recover from the fit. 

He overrode all opposition, and the day following, 
the 3rd of February, 1897, the expedition took the 
road under conditions more disastrous than the two 
previous expeditions that had failed. 

This time the general was ill, the season was the 
most unfavourable for military operations of the whole 
year in the Sertdo; the heat was African, the water- 
holes had all dried up or were reduced to mud, and 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 169 


all the cattle had been driven from the line of march. 
Most of the trees had lost their leaves in the fierce 
heat, a fine, red dust rose from the tracks in clouds, 
enveloping the soldiers in its folds, shielding the 
enemy’s advance, and making all the trail a Calvary 
to the unlucky troops. 

This time they determined to avoid the road by 
Mount Cambaio: which had proved so disastrous to 
the previous expeditions, and after long deliberation, 
and seeking the advice of local men, who generally 
deceived them purposely both as to distances and 
chances of provisions on the way, they took the 
old trail that passed by Cumbé, Aracaty, and Rosario, 
though it ran through the woods. The same guide, 
Jesuino, now promoted to a captaincy, offered his 
services and was accepted with effusion, after the 
proofs that he had given of tried loyalty. As the 
road ran through woods (caatingas) it offered possi- 
bilities of shade ; but, on the other hand, the sappers 
had to open a path through the thick underwood, 
broad enough for the passage of the troops. Water 
was just as scarce as on the other road, and once 
engaged in the thick forests, they found the heat as 
unendurable as on the open plain. Besides all this, 
the trail for a long time had been abandoned by the 
inhabitants. Houses had been deserted, and the thick 
brushwood of the tropics had grown up over every- 
thing, obliterating the brief authority of man. Thus 
their decision was a leap into the unknown, and, 
after long deliberation on the advisability of carrying 
water in hide bags upon the mules, they rejected it, 
and took an Artesian field pump, and a “ water 


170 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


searcher,” who professed to know where springs were 
likely to be found. 

By the road they saved fifty kilometres in distance ; 
but the difficulties that they encountered on the route 
wiped out completely any advantage that they had 
hoped to gain by the shortening of the track. Pru- 
dence of the most rudimentary order would have 
suggested that they should secure their base from a 
surprise attack when they were on the march. As 
on the last occasion, an over-confidence in ultimate 
success blinded them utterly. In Monte Santo, which 
in itself was open to attack, and a poor place for a 
prolonged defence, they left a feeble garrison of a few 
dozen soldiers and a quick-firing gun. Then they 
plunged into the unknown, without a doubt of their 
success, taking the forest trail. 

During the three weeks that had elapsed from the 
defeat of Colonel Tamarindo’s expedition to the launch- 
ing of the next under Moreira César, Antonio Consel- 
heiro had lost no time in strengthening his defences. 
The unsuccessful efforts of the Government had enor- 
mously increased his fame. Once more recruits poured 
in from every side, and he was able easily to fill the gaps 
made by the artillery amongst his followers. Extra- 
ordinary rumours of his powers soon ran like wildfire, 
not only through the Sertdo, but in the adjoining 
territories. Men told each other that angels had been 
seen fighting in aid of the good Councillor. Others 
there were who swore that he himself had turned 
away the cannon balls with a gesture of his hand and 
walked unharmed amongst the thickest of the fight. 
Long lines of pilgrims once again toiled along the trails, 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 173 


bringing their cattle and good store of corn. Maimed, 
halt, and paralytic folk carried in hammocks by their 
friends arrived in numbers, mixed up with aged men 
and women and with cattle thieves. All sorts and all 
conditions were on the move towards Canudos. Small 
cattle farmers had disposed of their property to purchase 
arms for both themselves and for their cattle-peons. 
They came on their best horses, were welcomed, and 
at once began to prepare themselves for the ensuing 
fight. Those living far away, who for some reason 
or another could not come themselves, sent in long 
trains of mules laden with corn, jerked beef, with 
flour, and with provisions of all kinds. The place was 
thoroughly revictualled and the enthusiasm bordered 
on frenzy, as fresh contingents daily poured into 
the town. Antonio Conselheiro multiplied himself 
and was seen everywhere, encouraging the men who 
dug the trenches, welcoming the new-comers to his 
Zion, and preaching fervently his doctrines of the 
coming ending of the world, the blessedness of suffer- 
ing, and of resistance to the impious Government. 
Still, he did not neglect the building of the church, 
employing on it all those unfit to go into the fighting 
line—women, and even children—coming and going 
to overlook their work whenever he had time. He 
was determined not to be taken by surprise again, and, 
either having learned by past experience, or being 
advised by someone skilled in the art of war, he 
occupied all the points within a league or two outside 
the town to stay the enemy’s advance. Spies were 
sent out on every side, who penetrated easily into 
the bases of the Government at Monte Santo and 


172 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Queimadas, and sent him information of everything 
they saw. 

This time, the Jaguncos seem to have compre- 
hended the folly of attacking in the open men with 
superior arms. Experience had taught them that 
their country was a natural fortress which they could 
make almost impregnable by the exercise of art. 
They dug their trenches so scientifically that it 
seemed almost impossible they had not been advised 
by a skilled captain in the art of war. At different 
places on the defile between Monte Cambaio and the 
town they erected shelters of rough stones, leaving 
interstices for rifle-fire, and in the trees at a con- 
venient height they built low platforms for sharp- 
shooters to sit on and fire upon the troops. These 
shelters, called in the patois of the Sertdo ‘ Mutans,” 
they used in peace time for shooting deer, watching 
for tigers, or any kind of game. 

Upon strategic points in the defile they heaped 
great rocks ready to roll on the invaders as they 
passed below on the one trail that led towards the 
town. In the great bivouac—for it was really more a 
bivouac than a town—the sound of preparations con- 
tinued far into the night, mixed with the strains of 
hymns. Smiths sharpened up the swords, put a keen 
edge upon the knives and bayonets, tempered the 
scythes and cattle goads, whilst women laboured 
making cartridges. Powder was scarce ; but in the 
district sulphur and saltpetre were found readily, and 
charcoal in a land of forests was easy to obtain. The 
powder that they soon produced, though rough in 
quality, turned out excellent. ‘Thus, when they had 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 173 


run off a store of bullets, they were ready for a siege. 
Nothing was more remarkable than the frequent 
arrival of bandits and of cattle thieves. They came, 
as they themselves would have said, ‘‘ debaixo do 
cangaco”’—that is, armed cap-a-pie. It does not 
appear that they were influenced in any way by hopes 
of plunder or of gain, for on arrival they all submitted 
cheerfully to the discipline imposed by the town 
commander, Joao Abbade, who turned them into 
improvised non-commissioned officers, giving them 
posts to hold. 

When all is said, it is impossible not to sympathise 
to some extent with the misguided sectaries, for all 
they wanted was to live the life they had been 
accustomed to, and sing their litanies. Clearly Antonio 
Conselheiro had no views on any subject under heaven 
outside his own district. His dreams were fixed upon 
a better world, and his chief care to fit his followers 
for the change that he believed was to take place 
so soon. 

As usual in all times of difficulty, he fell back on 
more religious ceremonies, more litanies, more self- 
abasement, and longer periods of fasting and of peni- 
tence that he enjoined on all. His spies returned— 
bringing accurate information, both of the number 
and the power of his foes. So much they talked of 
the death-dealing guns, the regiments of well-armed 
troops, and of the terror of Moreira César’s name, 
that the simple people dubbed him “ Anti-Christ,” 
thinking he was the awful being whom they heard 
so much about from their good Councillor. For 
the first time in their long trials their faith was 


174 LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 


shaken for a space; not that they feared to die for the 
cause they had espoused, but feared to lose their lives 
too soon, before the prophecies that they had 
heard from Conselheiro had been accomplished, and 
thus to forfeit the kingdom of the saints that he had 
promised them. 

A great procession that they made to the new 
church, and a fierce sermon from the Councillor, 
promising victory, restored their spirits, and they pre- 
pared themselves to fight, right to the bitter end. A 
few deserted, but their desertions only revived the 
fervour of the rest. Antonio Conselheiro (after his 
preparations for defence were made) ordained a day 
of prayer and of humiliation. Long trains of women 
dressed in black converged upon the church. The 
faithful thronged its aisles. Then, in dead silence, 
he ascended to the pulpit, and, looking out upon his 
flock, instead of launching into a perfervid oration, 
bowed his head, and fixed his eyes upon the ground 
for a considerable space. Lifting his head once more, 
he turned his macerated countenance towards the 
faithful, and in a broken phrase or two implored 
God’s blessing on them all. The effect was magical 
and instantaneous. Hope once again revived, and 
with a shout of “Death to Anti-Christ!” the congre- 
gation poured out of the church and each man sought 
his post. 


CHAPTER XIII 


Upon his side Moreira César had not been idle, but 
had done all he could to get his troops up to a 
high state of efficiency. On the 22nd of February 
he held a review at Monte Santo, and found he had 
twelve hundred and eighty men of all arms, including 
fifty cavalry. Each man had two hundred and fifty 
cartridges provided for him, and these were carried 
either in cartridge belts or packed up on the mules. 
Besides all this, a train of pack-mules and a few waggons 
followed with the baggage, and sixty thousand cart- 
ridges. A battery of four Krupp guns, commanded 
by Captain da Rocha, made a brave show at the 
review. Major Raphael Augusto da Cunha Mattos and 
Colonel Tamarindo, both anxious for revenge for their 
past reverses, each had commands they took up eagerly. 

So the stage was set for a minor action in the great 
drama that has been going on for centuries between 
the old world, and what was the new order, up to 
yesterday. In the days of Antonio Conselheiro, the 
challenge of the Semitico-Asiatic hordes had not been 
sounded, and the security of life and property, with 
European marriage, all seemed as firmly rooted as the 
foundations of the world. 

After the review was over, instead of dismissing 

175 


176 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


his men to their tents and bivouacs, Moreira César 
sounded the advance to the astonishment of everybody, 
and the whole expedition left Monte Santo an hour 
or two before the dark. In three days they reached 
Cumbé, after a journey even more painful than those 
the first two expeditions had endured. The full force 
of the drought now had reigned for the whole 
summer in the Sertéo. In places where there had 
been water-holes, none now were to be found. The 
trees stood up gaunt skeletons, looking like sign-posts 
on the road toruin. The very birds had long deserted 
the thirst-tortured country. Cattle had all been 
driven off to better pasturage. Even the rare wild 
beasts that crossed the column on the route, wild-cats. 
and jaguars, were thin and mangy, and looked des- 
perate with thirst. The soldiers fired at them in a 
perfunctory way, but failed to hit them, and the beasts 
appeared to grin and mock at them as they snarled at 
the puffs of sand the bullets threw up near their path. 
Only the lizards seemed at home and basked upon the 
heated stones like salamanders. The glare from 
heaven met the heat ascending from the parched earth, 
and the soldiers fancied they had entered purgatory. 
After Cumbé, hoping to escape attack, the expedition 
this time left the forests on their right, following the 
road by Cajazeiras and Serra Branca in the plains, but 
passing underneath a range of hills. The guides pro- 
tested at the choice of route, saying it was the hottest 
and most desolate in the whole Sertao ; but Moreira 
César overruled them, and, on his horse, headed the 
column under a sun that seemed to petrify the brains. 
After an eight hours’ march, the exhausted men, who 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 177 


had not drunk a drop of water all day long, arrived at 
Serra Branca. The General slipped exhausted from 
his horse, that hung its head, too tired even to whisk 
its tail to keep the flies away. The men let them- 
selves fall down in the ranks and lay, with their 
tongues blackened with thirst, hanging out of their 
mouths, like dogs after a long day’s work. 

Their first care, after a little rest, was to set up the 
Artesian pump, but, to their horror, they discovered 
that instead of packing up with it a borer for the 
necessary holes, a machine for raising weights had by 
some accident been substituted. Nothing remained 
but to wait till nightfall brought relief from the per- 
secuting sun, and then march on again. Marching 
all night, stumbling and falling in the darkness, the 
men up to their knees in the deep, sandy road, at last, 
just before daybreak, they reached Rosario, where 
there was a well. 

Fevered, and having passed full sixteen hours 
athirst, after a night almost as cold as the day was 
tropical, the soldiers drank till it seemed they would 
exhaust the well. Fortunately all South Americans, 
whether of Spanish or Portuguese extraction, are 
patient under suffering, and endure hardships under 
which European troops would sink. In a short time, 
after a sleep and rest, all were restored to spirits and 
congratulated themselves on having passed their night 
of misery without an enemy attack. Fires burned on 
the horizon, and now and then during the night they 
fancied shadowy figures had accompanied the expedi- 
tion, at a little distance from their ranks. These may 


have been creations of their sun-heated brains, or spies of 
12 


178 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


the Jaguncos, who seem to have comprehended that 
the climate and the hardships of the route were just 
as efficacious aids against their enemies as a resort 
to arms. Their system was apparently to lure the 
soldiers as far as possible into their territory, for the 
third expedition never was attacked upon the road. 

The soldiers’ spirits rose, and a slight rainfall that 
lasted half an hour refreshed their bodies, so that they 
began once more to despise their enemy, and talk of 
a mere military promenade, after the fashion of the 
expeditions that had preceded them upon their journey 
towards defeat. Once more the rain descended, this 
time with fury, turning the roads to rivers of liquid 
mud, and making all manceuvres difficult. The order 
to break camp was given just at daylight, and, in the 
gloom and rain, the soldiers struck their tents. An 
alarm was sounded suddenly, but proved fallacious, 
and on the ist of March they once more set out on 
their way. On the 3rd, they camped at a place 
called Pitombas, after a stage of seven or eight leagues. 
The rain had ceased, and in an hour or two the sun 
once more was their chief enemy. 

Already they had arrived close to Canudos without 
attack, or the least sign, except the furtive figures in 
the night of the Jaguncos spying on them. As they 
marched on, singing in the ranks, the soldiers talked 
of an easy victory. With sucha chief as was Moreira 
César, all things were possible. Some spoke of break- 
fasting next day inside Canudos, and others openly 
lamented that they would be obliged to go back 
without a combat or without a cartridge spent. From 
one end to the other of the long, straggling line ran 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 179 


jokes and gasconades, whilst many wondered why so 
many admirable strategic points had been left un- 
defended by the enemy. In fact, once more they fell 
into the old mistake of over-confidence, not compre- 
hending the tactics of Antonio Conselheiro in luring 
them into the lion’s den. Just as they left Pitombas, 
to march on to the last stage at Angico where they 
proposed to camp, a fusillade, from a belt of bush, 
caused them to stand to arms. At the first fire from 
the unseen enemy, they lost an officer and six or seven 
men. Moreira César ordered a halt and threw out 
skirmishers. These advanced, firing into the bush. 
All that they saw was the opening and closing of the 
scrub, as the Jaguncos disappeared into the woods. 

They found a shot-gun lying on the ground, and 
this they brought to their commander as the spoils of 
victory. Taking it in one hand, he fired it off into 
the air, remarking tranquilly, “Their arms are quite 
ineflicacious and little to be feared.” He little knew 
what was in store for him. 

The wounded men he left in Pitombas with a 
doctor and a guard, and pushed on rapidly. Instead 
of stopping at Angico to rest his soldiers, as a prudent 
soldier would have done, taking full time to lay his 
plans and hear his scouts’ reports, he only stayed a 
quarter of an hour. Riding to the head of the 
column, he addressed his men. ‘‘ Comrades,” he said, 
“you see my health is bad ; a man can die but once ; 
but after all our goal Canudos is quite close to us. 
Let us advance and capture it at once.” 

The soldiers answered him with cheers. “ Yes, 
General,” they cried, “‘ we will all follow you. Let 


180 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


us push on at once.” After six hours of a most 
painful march, they reached: the little hill called 
Mount Favella, and, passing round it, saw Canudos at 
their feet. Rapidly bringing up a gun, the artillery- 
men fired two rounds, and Moreira César, with a 
smile, remarked, “‘There go two visiting cards for 
Antonio Conselheiro, to tell him I am here.” 

Why, having four Krupp guns with him, he did 
not send a message to Antonio Conselheiro, to tell. 
him that he must surrender, or have the place blown 
to pieces, is dificult to understand. After the fashion 
of the other commanders of former expeditions, he 
seems to have grossly undervalued the Jagun¢os’ fight- 
ing powers. Instead of opening fire in a serious way, 
he limited himself to his two “ visiting cards,” and 
then encamped his men. It was the more extra- 
ordinary as the two shots fired, almost in sport, set on 
fire several houses, making the soldiers laugh as they 
saw the inhabitants scurrying in confusion to a place 
of safety in the rear of the great church. After a 
brief rest in the encampment that dominated all the 
town, at one o’clock the troops advanced to the 
attack, thinking no doubt that in an hour they would 
be masters of the place. Moreira Cesar does not 
seem to have had the faintest doubt of a success. So 
he advanced his men in column with the artillery 
upon the flanks, and marched straight into the 
labyrinth of winding streets without a qualm, amidst 
a silence of the tomb. The men pushed on, their 
ranks a little broken by the winding lanes, laughing 
and joking, exclaiming, as they found the houses all 
deserted, ‘“‘ This is a city of the dead.” When the 





ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 181 


last files had entered the intricate system of lanes and 
counterlanes, suddenly a hot fire broke out upon them 
from behind houses, from rifle-pits, artfully covered 
up with palm-leaves, and from the high walls of the 
unfinished church. From every side, from under- 
ground and from the sky, as it appeared, shots fell 
into them, doing considerable execution, and causing 
almost a panic inthe ranks. Nothing remained but to 
retreat at once or takethe houses and dislodge the sharp- 
shooters, at the bayonet’s point. The soldiers, though 
taken by surprise, soon rallied bravely, and rushed to 
the attack. As they advanced, more rifle-pits were 
discovered in their rear, and they were caught between 
two fires. 

The winding streets that often ran into ‘ dead- 
ends,” causing a charge to turn when it found its way 
barred to it, soon broke the attacking force into small 
groups that advanced upon the houses and the rifle- 
pits, separated from the main body of the troops. 
The artillery was afraid to fire, for soon the whole 
vast, human warren was alive with struggles, in which 
men fought without the slightest order, with bayonets, 
with rifle butts, and knives. In the fierce mélée, all 
the advantage of discipline was lost, and the athletic 
Sertanejos were more experienced in fighting of that 
nature than the individual soldiers of the troops. Shots 
were fired at the ranks point blank, from rifles thrust 
through the interstices of the rudely built houses, and 
never failed to find their mark. Women, wild-eyed,and 
with their hair all streaming inthe wind, loaded the old- 
fashioned blunderbusses as fast as they were emptied, or 
brought up others ready charged to put into the hands 


182 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


of the fierce combatants. They carried bags of cart- 
ridges for the modern weapons, for, by this time, 
either by purchase or taken from the dead of the past 
expeditions, a number of good rifles had fallen into 
the Jaguncos’ hands. As the doomed soldiers advanced 
farther into the town, all kinds of projectiles were 
showered upon them: hot water, stones heated in the 
fire, and torches made of rope dipped in tar fell thickly 
on their heads. When the troops took a group of 
houses, not without serious losses to themselves, they 
tore them down, only to find another group, equally 
well defended, just in front of them. During the 
battle psalmody was heard, long and lugubrious, a 
trailing melody of sound, that made itself distinctly 
audible through all the firing and the noise. 

The soldiers raised their heads involuntarily, and 
saw, to their amazement, the prophet, with a dozen of 
his men, standing on the walls of the great church, 
singing their litanies as composedly as if no combat 
was in progress and no fight was going on. A rain 
of bullets failed to reach him, and the lugubrious 
strains were turned into a hymn of triumph; and still 
the fight surged wildly in the streets, with varying 
success. 

Numbers began to tell, and, by degrees, the ex- 
hausted soldiers were forced back again towards the 
outskirts of the town. A prudent leader would have 
sounded a retreat and started fire with his artillery. 
Moreira César, though a brave man, experienced in 
war, was rash to a degree and over-confident. So, 
getting on his horse, he placed himself at the head of 
his small troop of cavalry to lead a charge into the 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 183 


town. They did not number more than fifty, and 
all their horses either were lame or out of condition 
for a charge, through dint of travelling. Ata hand 
gallop they advanced, Moreira César riding at their 
head and brandishing his sword. A brook spread out 
between them and the town, and, as they galloped 
down the slope to cross its channel, several of the 
tired and worn-out horses fell, crushing their riders 
and breaking up the ranks, Just in the middle of the 
stream they were exposed to a hot fire from hidden 
rifle-pits. Saddles were emptied, the charge weakened 
and broke, and then a panic seized upon the men, who 
turned to flee, all in confusion, an easy target to the 
hidden riflemen. Moreira César, mad with distress 
and shame, galloped furiously about, shouting and 
cursing in an attempt to turn the fugitives. Just as 
he gained the bank, a bullet struck him in the 
stomach, and he dropped his reins, exclaiming, “It is 
nothing,” though his head fell down upon his breast. 

Two officers spurred to his side, seeing his situation, 
but, as they reached him, and were stretching out 
their hands, a second bullet hit him, this time mortally. 
Still he remained upon his horse, supported on each 
side by his two officers, who brought him, still seated 
half-unconscious in the saddle, back to the encamp- 
ment that he so recently had left. 

The command devolved on Colonel Tamarindo, 
who, with more prudence than his chief, set about 
instantly to disengage his forces from the town, and 
to re-form his scattered companies under the fire of 
the artillery. 

Night was just falling as the troops slowly dis- 


184 LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 
engaged themselves out of the labyrinth. The 


Angelus rang out, and, as it sounded in the now 
silent air, the fierce Jaguncos threw their leather hats 
upon the ground, crossed themselves piously, and, 
falling on their knees, prayed fervently, thanking the 
God of Battles, who, at the intercession of their 
Councillor, had sent them victory. 


CHAPTER XIV 


WHEN at last Colonel Tamarindo had withdrawn his 
troops out of the hornet’s nest into which the rashness 
of their late chief had plunged them, he fell back 
upon his guns. By this time all the ranks were 
broken, and though the troops had inflicted heavy 
losses on the enemy, their own, in ratio to their 
numbers, were still heavier. The little hill on which 
the guns were placed was too close to the town for 
them to stay there, for fear of a surprise. Therefore, 
in a confused and mixed-up mass, they retreated to a 
higher hill called Alto do Mario, four or five hundred 
yards away. There they encamped in a roughly 
formed square, with their artillery and baggage animals 
inside of it. As several hours of light remained, why 
they did not at once reduce the town to ruins with 
their four Krupp guns has never been explained. 
Moreira César, though rash and ill-advised, was 
above all a man of energy. Had he been fit to take 
the leadership, all yet might have been saved, and 
discipline once more established in the ranks. His 
successor, Colonel Tamarindo, although a man accus- 
tomed to adventures from his youth, and trained in 
frontier fighting, broken to hardships, and a brave 


officer, was yet a fatalist. Perhaps disheartened by 
185 


186 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


his previous defeat, or from his age, for he had long 
passed sixty, he had set out upon the expedition quite 
against his will. From the first day he had been 
melancholy, and now, just at the moment when he 
had to take command, he fell into a fit of stupor, and, 
sitting down upon a box, rested his head between his 
hands. Nothing could move him from his lethargy. 
To the officers who came to him to ask instructions 
all he would reply was, “‘ Do the best you can under 
the circumstances.” This attitude completed their 
discouragement. It was the moment for a man of 
spirit to curse a little, to pray a little, to talk of 
honour and of home, of sweethearts and of wives ; to 
strike some, half in anger, half playfully with the flat 
of his sword, to encourage falterers with a brave 
word, to curb the headstrong, and by example, bring 
back courage into their hearts and order to the ranks. 
Poor Colonel Tamarindo was not the man for the 
plight in which they found themselves. His officers 
must have thought with regret upon their rash but 
energetic chief, mortally wounded, lying helpless in 
an old ruined house called ‘“‘ A Fazenda Velha,” in 
the middle of the square. 

Night fell upon the beaten and discouraged men, 
as it so often falls in the Sertdo, starlit and silent. The 
stars shone out like moons in the clear atmosphere, 
and just above Canudos, the Southern Cross rose 
slowly till it appeared to be on watch above the city 
of the Councillor. Every few minutes flashes of 
summer lightning illuminated everything, making the 
night still more mysterious in the interval. Frogs 
croaked with a metallic note, cicalas chirped, and in 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 187 


the scanty bushes on the river bank myriads of fire- 
flies, looking like a shower of golden spangles, twinkled 
and darted to and fro. Such nights appear to bring 
the soul into more intimate connection with the spirit 
of Nature, and lift it out of the region of mere selfish 
yearnings to be one with God, for its own welfare, 
into communion, not only with the Deity, but with 
all that He has made. 

Little enough did the disorganised mass of soldiery 
think of such matters, and their immediate care was 
for their lives. A hurried council of the chief officers 
was held by the camp fire, and after short delibera- 
tions they agreed to acquaint their dying leader that 
they had resolved upon retreat. A captain was de- 
puted to convey the news to him as he lay with his 
head upon a saddle, wrapped in his military cloak. 
Though he had but a few more hours of life, his head 
was Clear, clearer perhaps than it had been throughout 
the course of the disastrous expedition, and his resolu- 
tion fixed and unchangeable. He heard the message 
with amazement. Then raising himself on one elbow, 
pale, and with the dews of death upon his hair, but 
resolute and energetic to the last, in a clear voice he 
gave his reasons against their policy. 

“We have,” he said, “seven or eight hundred 
soldiers still remaining, all armed and well-supplied 
with ammunition. It is your duty to restore disci- 
pline amongst them, and this once done, there are 
enough of them to carry on the fight. Our position 
here is good, for with our guns we dominate the 
town. Attack it boldly and it will be yours.” From 
reasoning he passed on to reproach, to fury, and to 


188 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


despair, but could not put his courage and his resolu- 
tion into hearts dead to shame. Then he gave his 
last order. ‘This retreat is not to be begun.” This 
did not move them. So, calling for his secretary, he 
dictated to him his last dispatch, telling the Govern- 
ment of all that he had done. Lastly, broken by fast 
approaching death and shame at the retreat that he 
saw would be begun as soon as he no longer had the 
power to give an order or protest, in his own hand he 
wrote upon the margin of the document, “I retire 
from the army.” ‘Then sinking back upon the ground, 
he wrapped his head up in his cloak, and in a few 
hours passed away without a word. 

His death completed the confusion and despair of 
his discouraged troops. In addition to the difficulties 
of their position and to the distance that they had to 
go before they possibly could reach a place of safety, 
a wave of superstition now swept over all of them. 
The over-confidence with which they had set out, 
and the ill-judged contempt of an enemy not to be 
despised, had given way to a blind terror of him. 
The soldiers all came from the northern provinces, 
and in essentials, though with a tinge of negro blood, 
were of the same race as their enemies. The name 
of Antonio Conselheiro was familiar to them. Most 
likely all had heard of, and some believed in, his super- 
natural powers. Amongst the ranks there was no 
stiffening of better educated men from near the 
capital. ‘The energetic Paulistas* were conspicuous 
by their absence, and none of the Rio Grande men, 
themselves half Gauchos, and accustomed to inter- 


* Men from Sao Paulo, 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 189 


course with the materialistic Gauchos of Uruguay 
and of the Argentine, were there to mock their fears. 
Wild stories circulated about Antonio Conselheiro’s 
powers. He had been seen, alone, high on the church, 
catching the bullets in his hands, and dropping them 
upon the ground. All that had happened seemed 
inexplicable to the superstitious soldiers, and most of 
all, the defeat and death of their commander, whom 
they all looked on as invincible. At midnight the 
whole camp was thrown into alarm. The sentinels 
and scouts came in, firing their rifles as they ran. Up 
from Canudos, buried in the depths of darkness, came 
a sound of many voices, a hum as of advancing thou- 
sands, so it appeared to them. They stood to arms, 
and listened, then their vain terrors were accentuated, 
for it was not the sound of an advancing host that had 
alarmed them, but a universal prayer. Women and 
men and children, old and young, combatants and 
non-combatants alike, were praying fervently, led by 
the prophet from the highest point of vantage on the 
half-finished church. 

It was a sound that must to anyone have seemed 
mysterious, even terrifying. A town of possibly some 
twenty thousand souls all praying with one voice and 
one accord, out of the darkness of the night. To the 
half-beaten, wholly shaken soldiery grouped listening 
on the hill, it sent a thrill of superstitious terror that 
penetrated to their souls. Victory was still within 
their grasp had they but known it, or had a particle 
of the energy of poor Moreira César, now lying dead, 
wrapped in his military cloak—the fittest winding 
sheet of a brave soldier—possessed their officers. Their 


Igo LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


strength was in the guns that they had failed to use, 
and by whose aid the wretched village at their feet 
was dominated. No weapons can give courage to a 
coward, and in their case the ancient Spanish saying, 
“Weighed down with iron, weighed down with fear”* 
was amply verified. 

The first faint streaks of dawn saw them all ready 
for the road. Their leader, Colonel Tamarindo, now 
in some part emerged from the stupor that had over- 
whelmed him, had the sense left to marshal all his 
men into some sort of order for their arduous retreat. 
The first to leave the ground was a detachment of the 
best troops, and what remained of the defeated cavalry. 
These he threw out upon his wings to act as scouts ; 
but the disabled condition of their horses that had 
passed a night deprived of water and of food detracted 
from their use. 

Then came the vanguard, escorting all the baggage 
animals, and with the wounded carried in litters, 
roughly improvised; then, wrapped in a hide, the 
body of their leader, lashed upon a mule. Lastly 
came half ot the artillery, for they had left two of 
their guns under a subaltern upon the hill on which 
the camp had been erected, with orders to delay the 
enemy’s advance at any cost. 

This he did bravely, for at the moment that the 
last files of the retreating troops left the encampment, 
he was attacked on every side. A bell on the great 
church called everyone to arms down in Canudos, and 
from all sides a hot discharge broke on the brave 
young officer and his artillerymen. When he judged 


* “ Cargado de hierro, cargado de miedo.” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO Igl 


that his comrades had begun their march in safety, 
and after having killed almost a hundred of the enemy, 
he withdrew his guns, retreating in good order, after 
the retiring force. Had he but stayed and turned his 
guns upon the town, the whole result of the disastrous 
expedition might have been altered; but it was written 
otherwise in the great book of human folly which so 
many take for fate. 

When the day broke, it showed the column on the 
march, still in good order, but outflanked on every 
side by the Jagungos, who from the points of vantage 
on the road poured in a galling fire. Still there was 
nothing in their situation that an energetic leader 
could not have coped with, had but some discipline 
been kept, and the most elementary knowledge of 
conducting a retreat existed anywhere. Once clear of 
the defiles, and in the plains, they might have camped 
beside a river, grazed their pack animals under a 
guard, whilst the artillery held back the enemy till 
all were rested, and an orderly retreat was entered on. 
This by degrees would have brought them all to 
safety, for the Jagungos never ventured far from their 
own territory. 

Nothing was farther from the minds of the mulatto 
soldiers than to make a stand. Their comrades were 
falling in the ranks at every volley the Jaguncos fired. 
Only the artillery bringing up the rear resisted, firing 
bravely into the thick ranks of the pursuing sectaries. 
Little by little the artillerymen were picked off by the 
sharpshooters, falling beside their guns. They all fell 
bravely, with their faces to the foe. 

Their fate, and the reluctance of the Jagung¢os to 


192 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


close in upon them, shows clearly what might have 
been accomplished, had but the rest of the retreating 
expedition shown ordinary nerve. At last the catas- 
trophe burst on the retreating horde. The guns, 
which had been dragged by mules, stopped suddenly 
at a corner of the road before the retreating expedition 
had disengaged itself from the defile below Monte 
Cambaio. Colonel Tamarindo, who since the break 
of day had manifested an energy and a courage in 
inverse ratio to his weakness of the night before, 
exposed his life recklessly, galloping fearlessly from 
one end of the column to the other, trying to infuse 
some spirit in his men. His efforts all were useless, 
and the last artillerymen were slaughtered round their 
guns. With shouts of triumph the Jagungos closed 
in, with overwhelming numbers on the column. It 
made but slight resistance; but abandoning the baggage 
animals, leaving the body of Moreira César on the 
ground, all broke into a mad flight. Knapsacks and 
guns were cast away. Bayonets and cartridge cases, 
blankets and greatcoats littered the road on every side. 
Like vultures the Jaguncos swooped down on the 
deserted guns, cutting down Capitan Salom4o and four 
brave artillerymen, who remained faithful to the end. 

Colonel Tamarindo, left alone, still tried to stay the 
tide of fugitives, displaying a courage and contempt of 
death which he had brought too late into the field. 
As he was galloping, waving his sword and shouting 
orders to the flying men, a bullet struck him in the 
breast. He fell, half dying, and to an officer who 
galloped up to him gave his last order with his failing 
breath, “I leave the command to Colonel Cunha 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 193 


Mattos”; then he rolled between the feet of his 
expiring horse, that, pierced with twenty bullets, had 
staggered up against a rock. 

The expedition, which such a little time ago had 
left its base well-armed and well-provisioned, confident 
of success, marching to the sound of bugle and ot 
drum, had disappeared. All that remained was a mere 
mob of fugitives. Eight hundred men, without pro- 
visions, defenceless, burning with thirst, helpless and 
deprived of guides, were left like shipwrecked 
mariners tossed without compass on the sea. Many 
who left the roads soon lost their way, and perished 
in the woods of hunger and of thirst. About five 
hundred kept together, unpursued, for the Jaguncos 
were occupied in dragging back the guns, in hunting 
up the mules laden with ammunition and provisions, 
and in picking up the rifles, bayonets, and arms that 
they found strewn upon the ground. The store of 
ammunition which Moreira César had left behind at 
O Rosario all fell into the hands of the triumphant 
sectaries, who thus were able to equip the front ranks 
of their fighting line with better weapons, which 
they used with considerable effect against their 
enemies. 

After three days of agonising flight, in which 
men dropped upon the sand and died at every 
turning of the road, the main group of the fugitives 
reached Monte Santo unpursued, except by their own 
fears. What they underwent upon the road, without 
provisions, in the full rigour of the summer, forced to 
struggle on continuously, or else to die of thirst, can 
be more easily imagined than described. In the 

13 


194 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


striking phrase of Euclydes da Cunha,* which in 
itself was taken from the Jagungos, ‘‘ the forces of the 
Government had become a weakness,” for the time 
being, at the least. All the result of the expedition, 
under the much vaunted leader, Moreira César, had 
been to equip the Jagungos for the first time with 
artillery, and with a plentiful supply of arms. It had 
also stimulated their fanaticism, and raised the prestige 
of Antonio Conselheiro to an unprecedented height. 
His followers looked on their victory as a miracle 
brought about by his prayers. They had seen the 
forces of the Government arrive before Canudos, at 
the first fire of the artillery set several houses burning, 
and had given themselves up for lost. ‘Then, without 
apparent reason, they had seen the same forces, still 
unbroken, still with their formidable artillery covering 
their retreat, retire and break into disorder, then turn 
into a rabble and throw their arms upon the ground. 
What wonder that to ignorant and superstitious men 
it seemed a miracle? 

Their unlooked-for victory seems to have stirred up 
in their minds instincts that perhaps they owed to 
their remotest ancestors in Africa, or to the Tupi 
Indians, whose blood flowed in the veins of many of 
them. After the battle and the collecting of the 
arms, they next turned their attention to the dead. 
These they decapitated, and burned the bodies in 
great piles, ‘The heads they placed on stakes on each 
side of the defile between Canudos and Mount 

* “Os Sertoés.” 


t A play upon the words “forga,” force, and “ fraqueza,” 
weakness, 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 195 


Cambaiao, just as the Ashantis had an avenue of heads 
before their capital. Above each head, upon the 
trees and bushes, was hung a knapsack, a jacket, 
or a kepi, a belt, a saddle, or a military cloak, so 
that the whole road seemed a rag-fair, of death. 

Lastly, impaled and standing upright, shrivelled to 
a mummy in the dry air of the Sertdo, they stuck the 
body of Colonel Tamarindo, as if he still commanded 
his unlucky men, placing it only a yard or two from 
where he fell. His horse, mortally wounded, had 
staggered a few paces farther on before it died upon 
its feet, resting against a bank. The Jagun¢os left it 
where it had finished its career, and the dry climate 
desiccated it, so that months afterwards, when a new 
expedition passed through the defile, it was still per- 
fect, undecayed and dry, with the wind lifting up 
its mane occasionally—a veritable pale horse of 
death, descended lineally from its prototype in the 
Apocalypse. 


CHAPTER XV 


For the third time the forces of the Government had 
suffered a reverse, at the hands of men undisciplined, 
ill-armed, and aided chiefly by the difficulties of the 
country where they lived. There was no compromise 
possible to be arrived at between the forces that were 
engaged. The Government could not afford to treat 
in any way with Antonio Conselheiro, for they had 
nothing in their power to offer him. He on his side, 
most likely, would never have consented to hold a 
parley with the entity that he had typified as Anti- 
Christ. 

The blow that the Government had received was 
grievous to its prestige, unstable as it was, with several 
revolutions on its hands. Still, they were not so 
serious as the movement in the Sertdo, as they were 
of the kind common in South America, raised by 
ambitious men. Had any of them triumphed, one 
Government would have succeeded another, very like 
the last. Antonio Conselheiro, with his millenniary 
doctrine, challenged, even if he was unaware of it 
himself, all the foundations of society. No challenge 
is so fatal to any system as to predict its speedy 
ending, for at once the state of things so challenged 


becomes of no account to the believers in the prophecy. 
196 


LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 197 
Antonio Conselheiro probably had no very definite 


ideas either of his own position or of the power of the 
Government. His late success does not appear to have 
elated him unduly, nor did he seem to have conceived 
any ideas of conquest beyond the limits of the 
Sertio. 

Had he been let alone, it is probable that things 
would have gone on quite quietly, for his doctrines 
seem to have been quite fitted to his followers. There 
being no accommodation possible between a Govern- 
ment that held the usual comfortable doctrine that 
to-morrow will be the same as yesterday, and heralded 
all change as progress, being quite positive that they 
were the repository of all wisdom and all common 
sense, and on the other hand a prophet who esteemed 
all worldly wisdom a mere tinkling cymbal, nothing 
was left but to fight out the question to the end. This 
was what both sides were prepared to do. 

The Government assembled in Bahia a force of some 
five thousand men, with field and siege artillery, half 
a regiment of cavalry from Rio Grande do Sul, com- 
posed of Gauchos, the whole under the command of 
General Arthur Oscar de Andrade Guimaraens, an 
officer of considerable renown. 

Once more the vainglorious and foolish over- 
confidence that had proved so disastrous to the three 
previous expeditions overtook the fourth. The 
General’s orders were to lose as little time as possible 
in Bahia, but to push on at once to the railhead at 
Queimadas, and there establish a provisional base of 
operations, and await the arrival of more troops. This 
he was forced to do, even more speedily than he had 


198 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 
bargained for, by the foolish conduct of his officers 


and men. 

The officers, mostly cadets, just through the military 
schools, who probably had never left the capital, saw 
in Bahia only an advanced post of the Sertao, The 
winding streets and high colonial houses with their 
red-tiled roofs, the wealth of convents and of churches, 
dark passages and massive doors with coats-of-arms 
cut deeply over them, only appeared to the young 
men as vestiges of barbarism. ‘They went about, 
clanking their sabres, trailing their useless spurs upon 
the pavements, and going on as if they were in occu- 
pation of a conquered territory. They all affected to 
perceive in the revolt of the Jaguncos a movement to 
restore the monarchy. Hardly a day passed without 
some disagreeable incident, or some collision with the 
civil population, who were as much opposed to 
Antonio Conselheiro as were the officers themselves. 

The General was obliged to issue orders that the 
troops should entrain for Queimadas, straight from the 
harbour, so that in a few days, after having left a dis- 
agreeable feeling in Bahia, all were assembled at the 
railhead, and marched on without delay to Monte 
Santo, which as before was chosen for the base. 

Antonio Conselheiro seems to have had little or no 
illusions as to the fate reserved for him and for the 
Zion of his followers, in the face of such a formidable 
force. Nevertheless, he made all preparations for a 
desperate defence. The great new church was almost 
finished by this time. On it he mounted two of the 
Krupp guns taken from the third expedition. The 
other two he placed in strategic positions to guard the 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 199 


approaches to the town. People still flowed towards 
Canudos, bringing provisions with them, and the 
whole country to his rear was open to him, and in 
the main favourable to his cause. He now disposed 
of a certain quantity of modern rifles and a good 
store of ammunition for them. 

The spiritual appeal he in nowise neglected, preach- 
ing incessantly, enjoining even more rigorous fasting 
and penitence, prophesying the final judgment, after 
the reign of Don Sebastian upon earth. Whether 
the leaders who were steeped in crime, as Pajehu and 
Macambira, believed in, or even cared about the 
coming of an illusory King to reign in glory and to 
judge the world previous to its destruction, is a moot 
point, for who shall dive into the mysteries of the 
human mind or search its follies? Perhaps they had 
a vague belief, or were impressed by Antonio Consel- 
heiro, accustomed as they all were to the outward 
forms of the Catholic religion from their infancy. 
Most likely they felt rather than reasoned out that 
the wild life in the Sertao would be ended if the 
Government should conquer, and they themselves 
subjected to the law. At any rate, they gave un- 
questioning obedience to their leader, and did their 
utmost to prepare for the death-struggle that awaited 
them. 

Upon the other side, the railhead at Queimadas 
rang with the din of preparations. A great instruc- 
tion camp was formed, and on its parade-ground the 
soldiers trained incessantly, practising such evolutions 
as appeared best suited to a campaign in the Sertao. 
Warned by experience, the General hada regiment of 


200 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


scouts dressed in the leather clothes of the Jaguncos, 
making it possible for them to manceuvre in the bush. 
The body of the troops, unluckily for them, still kept 
their gaudy uniforms, rendering them an easy mark 
for the sharpshooters who annoyed them on the march. 
Two months were thus consumed in preparations, giving 
the soldiers time to become discontented with their 
monotonous surroundings, and in some degree infected 
by the inhabitants with a vague terror of the enemy. 
The rank-and-file were almost all men drawn from the 
northern provinces, accustomed from their earliest 
years to hear of miracles performed by various 
impostors, or self-deceivers, who from time to time 
appeared. Most likely many of them saw nothing 
improbable in the coming of the King, Don Sebastian, 
to reign upon the earth. By race and training, and by 
the ties of superstition and of faith, they were not far 
removed from the Jaguncos whom they were called 
upon to fight. Their discontent was rendered more 
acute by scarcity of food, for the commissariat, hastily 
organised and badly planned, had proved a failure. 
Flour soon was finished, and the troops depended for 
their food upon the thin cattle which were driven 
down to them through grassless districts, arriving 
famishing and travel-worn. 

The situation in Queimadas was disastrous. The 
armies of the republic, but just emerged from a long 
revolutionary struggle, were in confusion. Only a 
single line existed to the coast. By it the troops, the 
ammunition and provisions, all filtered slowly up 
towards the base. When regiments arrived, the 
greater part of them were far below their strength 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 201 


on paper, and half were raw recruits. Orders were 
sent from Rio de Janeiro to march at once, and to 
secure success if possible; for the Government had 
suffered seriously by the three previous blows. The 
General, Arthur Oscar, adopted a plan for his attack 
almost precisely similar to that adopted by Moreira 
César, with the exception that his forces were far 
larger and his artillery much more formidable. ‘Two 
columns, one under General Silva Barbosa, and the 
other commanded by General Savaget, were to con- 
verge upon the town. Given the circumstances and 
the nature of the country, it is difficult to see what 
other plan could have been hit upon. To make 
things more secure General Arthur Oscar added a 
third column to attack Canudos in the rear. Pushed 
by the Government, and compelled to make a show of 
great activity, he sent off General Savaget, early in 
April, with a column, by the Joazeiro-Villa Nova 
road. He himself was detained, by the need to train 
his raw recruits, by shortness of provisions and by the 
lack of ammunition for his guns, until the end of 
June. During this interval the discontent amongst 
the troops at the inaction and the want of food 
became so great, that in order to appease it a 
hypothetical reconnaissance was undertaken towards 
the insurgents’ outworks at the strategic points. This 
expedient, so well known to leaders in a like position, 
nearly ended in a catastrophe, owing to the rashness 
of Colonel Thompson Flores, the colonel in command, 

This officer, unused to frontier warfare, and jealous 
of the luck, as he considered it, of General Savaget, 
who he imagined would take Canudos with a rush, 


202 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


determined to push on, and to win laurels on his own 
account. Only an urgent dispatch from headquarters 
saved him from rushing on his fate. Nothing appears 
to have served as a lesson sharp enough to make the 
Brazilian national troops aware of the great difficulties 
of a campaign in the Sertao. They all appeared to 
think that in the familiar Spanish phrase, “ They 
could arrive and kiss the saint,”* unaware, perhaps, 
that the twin paths that lead to heaven and glory are 
arduous to tread. 

Towards the end of June (1897) General Arthur 
Oscar gave the signal to depart. The ill-trained, 
half-starved troops plunged into the wilderness upon 
half rations—not a good preparation for a difficult 
campaign. With them they took a large siege gun, a 
Whitworth, that weighed nearly two thousand pounds. 
This piece of ordnance put the expedition to great 
trouble, for transport animals were scarce, roads were 
non-existent, and in the month of June such tracks as 
did exist were ankle-deep in mud. The General seems 
to have imagined that he had to embark upon a semi- 
European style of warfare, and so annoyed his troops 
with a strict discipline as to formation on the march. 
The heavy Whitworth gun, with a battery of Krupp 
fieldpieces and half a dozen quick-firers, made an 
imposing show. A corps of sappers had to go in 
front to prepare the way fot it, levelling the track in 
places, constructing bridges at the streams, and gener- 
ally losing time. Of the three roads that lead towards 
Canudos, two, those of Cambaiao and Massacara, had 


* “T legar y besar al santo.” 


t Euclydes da Cunha, ‘Os Sertoés,” p. 377. 


a 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 203 


been rendered almost transitable by the expeditions 
that had failed. Their worst asperities had been 
levelled down and their strategic points were known. 
The third road that led by Calumby was the shortest 
of the three, and the least difficult. This road the 
Jaguncos had fortified so strongly that it would have 
been impossible to force. ‘Therefore the expedition 
avoided it, passing to the eastward under the slopes of 
Mont Aracaty, and following more or less the track of 
the first expedition that had essayed the task. 

Of all the expeditions, the fourth, encumbered as it 
was with a full military train, advanced the slowest. 
Four or five painful days upon the road brought them 
into the danger zone at the Lagoa da Lage, where for 
the first time they had a skirmish with the enemy. 
By the 26th, they only had advanced eighty kilometres 
from Monte Santo upon their painful road. At 
times, in order to avoid marshy places where the big 
gun would certainly have sunk, they had to cut a path 
for a mile or two through the thick bush, a perfect 
labyrinth of thorns. 

Colonel Siqueira de Menezes, who accompanied the 
expedition, in an article to the newspaper O Pazz, 
of Rio, has preserved the names of some of the most 
thorny plants, as Chique-Chique, Palmatorio, Rabo de 
Raposa,* Mundacarus, Croas, Cabeca de Frade, and 
many more, whose designations are as terrific as the 
most thorny of the thorns. 

From this time forward the expedition was con- 
tinuously attacked. Ambushes by day, alarms by 
night, attempts to stampede the baggage animals, 


* Fox’s tail. t Friar’s head. 


204 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


succeeded one another, giving the troops no rest. 
Arrived at the ill-fated position of Angico, they passed 
along the deep, worn path, between thick bush, where 
the heads of those decapitated by the Jaguncos, after 
the rout of the third expedition, were all stuck up on 
stakes. It seemed to the raw troops that they had 
entered on the road to hell, so great their horror was, 
as the wind swayed some of the mummied bodies, 
which had been fastened to the trees, in a fantastic 
dance. 

Lastly, they came upon the body of Colonel 
Tamarindo, still with black gloves upon the hands, 
the decapitated head hung from a branch above it, 
and a little farther on, his horse, still on its feet 
against the bank, with its mane waving in the breeze. 
As they were passing the defile, guarded by the dry 
bodies of their former comrades, Pajehu attacked in 
force, but hidden by the bush. A rain of bullets fell 
amongst the troops marching in close formation, and 
in a moment there were many casualties inflicted by 
the unseen enemy. The quick-firing guns enabled 
them to beat back the attack, and in the evening they 
arrived at Monte Favella that overlooked the town. 

The expedition camped in the valley underneath 
the hill. From the low hill, the General and his Staff 
gazed down with wonder on the town. Was this the 
place—a mere assemblage of mud-huts that looked so 
fragile that it seemed a push would throw them on 
the ground—that had foiled three expeditions, well 
equipped with modern arms? It seemed impossible ; 
but as he gazed he saw the trenches connecting 
up the various rivers encircling all the town, and he 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 205 


was soon forced to confess that the task he had under- 
taken might prove formidable. 

Hardly had the troops encamped when an attack 
broke out, the Jagungos having crept up like snakes 
amongst the bushes and the grass, without a sign of 
their approach. Two companies which had been 
thrown out in advance bore the full brunt of the 
assault, and suffered heavily. When the moon rose, 
about the middle of the night, there was a general 
attack upon them. This lasted for an hour or two, 
and as the first faint streaks of dawn appeared the 
Jagung¢os silently withdrew, having inflicted heavy 
losses on the troops, almost without a casualty to them- 
selves, shooting the soldiers down from the shelter of 
the darkness, as they fired wildly, at the flashing of 
their guns. 

When morning broke at last, the General buried 
his dead, and then got his artillery into position, 
hoping to end the matter in a day or two with his 
superior arms, and to return a victor from the field 
where all his predecessors had failed lamentably. 
Thus once again, lost in the heart of the Sertdo, was 
the stage set for the old contest between the forces 
representing law and order, and the old world, in 
which each man was a law unto himself—the world 
of myths and portents, prophets and miracles. The old 
and new stood face to face before Canudos, one savage, 
brutal, but not the least ashamed; the other painted 
in bands of parti-coloured hue, with Progress, 
Humanity, and Toleration writ large upon them. On 
the one side a pack of wolves, and on the other 
a submarine, charged with torpedoes and with mines. 


CHAPTER XVI 


TuouGu with the force the Government had assembled 
before Canudos there could be no doubt of their 
ultimate success, ill luck dogged all their efforts from 
the start. The fatal habit of holding the Jagung¢os 
too cheaply as enemies cost them the lives of many 
of their best officers and a great toll of casualties 
amongst their men. On the morning of the 28th the 
artillery opened fire upon Canudos at the first dawn 
of day. It was to be expected that the miserably 
built town would be reduced to ashes in a few hours, 
under the fire of modern guns. 

Events proved that the defenders of the place had 
natural military instincts of a high order for defence. 
Hardly had the guns begun to fire, than from pits 
constructed so as to be invisible, from trenches in the 
town and from the thick bush, that the imprudent 
leader of the governmental forces had omitted to 
destroy, a well-sustained rifle-fire was opened on the 
artillerymen. In half an hour they had lost more 
than a hundred men and many officers. 

Their fire, to their astonishment, made little im- 
pression on the town, except to level open lines 
through the mud-built houses, the inhabitants all 

206 


a 


LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 207 


having taken shelter in hiding-places underground. 
The Jagungo sharp-shooters, led by Pajehu, revealed 
a courage and a coolness under fire quite unexpected 
of them by their enemies. Safe in their hiding- 
places, they lay hid under a hail of projectiles, replying 
instantly when the storm slackened by a well-directed 
fire. The General, Arthur Oscar, mad with rage at 
losing so many of his best men, ordered a general 
assault. His troops rushed down the hill, entering 
the town after having forded the little river that had 
proved so disastrous a passage to the third expedition, 
and soon were swallowed up in the labyrinth of lanes. 
A hurricane of fire burst on them from every side ; 
from houses, trenches, rifle-pits and from the church, 
they were exposed to a veritable massacre. After 
having penetrated to the square, destroying street after 
street of huts as they advanced, in order to secure 
themselves from an attack in the rear, they were forced 
to execute what the General described in his despatch 
as a “ well-executed strategic movement, that placed 
our forces once more under the protection of the 
guns.” 

In fact, he had suffered a reverse, and lost, since 
daybreak, more than three hundred men. The 
_ situation was not pleasant. His men were on half 
rations, and the provision mule-trains had been 
attacked upon the road by the Jaguncos, who, 
although forced to retire, had wounded many of the 
pack animals and caused a long delay. 

Water was plentiful in the stream that flowed below 
the spot on which the General was encamped. The pas- 
sage to and fro to it was rendered possible by theartillery. 


208 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Situated as he was, the General’s first necessity was 
to reinforce his troops. Most anxiously he waited for 
the arrival of General Savaget, whom he had dis- 
patched with a column of two thousand men and 
several Krupp guns, to converge on the position and 
take it in the rear. 

He too had been attacked upon the road, for the 
Jagun¢os displayed much greater enterprise on this 
occasion than they had done before. At the rate of 
two leagues* a day, the column under General 
Savaget toiled through the sand, its marches regulated 
by the necessity of reaching water and pasture for the 
animals. It hugged the banks of the River Vasa-Barris, 
so’ as to be protected on one flank. 

Successively it passed the miserable villages or 
half-ruined “ fazendas” of Passagem, Canna Brava, 
Brejinho, Manary, Cauché and Serra Vermelha, 
camping on June the 25th at a place called Cocorobd, 
where they expected they would be attacked. For 
the first time a Brazilian General did not fall into the 
trap laid for him by the Jagungos, with his eyes 
closed and over-confident. 

At this place the only road ran through a deep 
defile. A cavalry detachment sent on to reconnoitre 
found the position entrenched and held in force. 
Nothing remained to General Savaget but to advance 
and carry the defences with the bayonet. Advancing 
through a fire that decimated them, the Brazilian 
infantry displayed the admirable qualities that they 
have always shown, when they have been well- 


* The Brazilian league is about three English miles, rather more 
than less, 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 209 


officered and led. On this occasion they sustained 
their reputation to the full. 

Attacked on every side, in a position in which it 
was impossible to use their superior weapons to 
advantage, their officers falling like corn before the 
sickle, under the fire of a concealed and watchful 
enemy, they steadily advanced. Rocks bounded down 
the slopes of the defile like greyhounds, making great 
breaches in their ranks. Their officers fell fast under 
the fire of hidden sharpshooters. Now and then figures 
appeared on the high cliffs, fired, and with a yell sank 
back again under the shelter of a rock. Never before 
had the Jagunc¢os held a position with such tenacity. 
It seemed as if for the first time they really compre- 
hended that their country was a natural fortress, with 
points of vantage arranged by Providence. 

The General’s horse was killed, and he, when he 
had disengaged himself from the fallen animal, ad- 
vanced on foot, followed by the harassed infantry, 
until at last, with heavy losses, they emerged upon the 
plain. Thenceforward their progress was a con- 
tinuous fight. From every rock and tree, or from the 
midst of the tall grass and bushes, unseen sharp- 
shooters galled their march, taking a heavy toll of 
them in casualties. 

Bands of light horsemen, their leather clothes 
blending so well with the landscape as to render them 
almost invisible at a little distance off, picked up the 
stragglers, lassoing them and trailing them to death 
behind their horses, in sight of the raging but im- 
potent troops upon the march. The cavalry of the 
Government, heavily equipped, could never come up 

14 


210 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


to engage the Jagun¢go horsemen, who fled into the 
bush, hanging alongside their horses and firing under- 
neath their necks, after the fashion of the Arabs, or the 
Indians of the plains. Little by little the enemy fell 
back, disputing every coign of vantage, and when at 
last the column reached Favella, their losses in the three 
leagues they had travelled totalled three hundred men. 

Once at Favella, General Savaget sent off a mes- 
senger to announce his safe arrival to the Commander- 
in-Chief, only a mile away. The messenger returned 
with urgent orders to advance. When the tired 
soldiers arrived outside the main encampment on the 
farther slopes of Mount Favella, just above the town, 
they found it invested by the Jagung¢os on every side. 
Thus the first task General Savaget found waiting for 
him was to relieve his own commander and his forces 
who were blockaded on the hill. 

Their greatest need was for provisions, for the 
Jagungos were holding up the mule trains that had 
been left inadequately protected on the road. Next 
day, by a vigorous movement of the two columns, 
General Savaget was able to free the encampment 
from the disastrous position it was in, and force the 
enemy with heavy losses to retire into the town. 

The situation was ironical enough. By far the 
largest and best furnished force the Government had 
sent against Canudos, owing to fatal over-confidence, 
found itself virtually besieged, in what should have 
been a strong position, by the very people it had set 
out to subdue. 

Nine hundred casualties testified to the resistance of 
the Jaguncos to the columns on the march. The 


ae 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 211 


superior arms they had collected from the former 
expeditions placed them more on an equality with 
the forces of the Government than they had been 
before. Their knowledge of the country, and the 
certainty that they all fought with halters round their 
necks, made them most formidable antagonists. In 
Pajehu, ex-malefactor and assassin, they had found a 
leader of no mean order in the field. He seems to 
have thoroughly comprehended the strength and 
weakness of the men he led to the assault, and took 
good care never to fall into his previous error of 
launching them upon the well-armed troops in the 
open, but resorted to the guerilla tactics natural to 
every frontierman in every country of the world. 

Days passed, during which the soldiers on half 
rations, short of water, and confined within a narrow 
space, began to murmur at their fate. The famous 
Whitworth gun, that had cost so much intensity of 
toil to bring up from the base, was wrongly sighted and 
could not be depressed sufficiently to bear upon the 
town. Thus it became a “ monstrous fetish,’* but a 
fetish without a moral value, as the Jagun¢os soon 
found out its uselessness. Provisions daily ran lower, 
and the chief train of mules, which had left Quei- 
madas nearly a month before, was still held back upon 
the road. The bombardment of the town did not 
give the results that were expected of it, and by the 
2nd of July the situation of the expedition was 
almost desperate. 

Their fate depended on provisions, and the pro- 

* “ Monstruoso fetiche,” Euclydes da Cunha, “Os Sertoés,” 
P. 430. 


oii LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


visions still were delayed upon the road. Men they 
had plenty of, and ammunition, but not a sack of 
flour, nor any salt or beans, and beans are the chief 
staple of the Brazilian troops. Luckily for them, the 
country to the rear was open to them, and luckier 
still, a squadron all composed of Gauchos from the 
south was with the cavalry. These men, centaurs 
before the Lord, trained to the lazo and the bolas 
from their youth upwards, proved invaluable. Just 
as did Garibaldi before Rome, when in a like position 
to the Brazilian General before Canudos, these Gauchos 
were sent out to scour the country and drive in 
all the cattle they could find. Nothing escaped their 
vigilance, and in a day or two bands of thin cattle 
were driven in towards the troops. It was a joyful 
moment when the Gauchos, hurling their long, hide 
lazos through the air like snakes, planted them un- 
erringly upon the horns of a lean cow or bullock, and 
dragged it to the ground. In an instant, like a flock 
of vultures, the soldiers swarmed round the fallen 
animal, despatched it with their sword bayonets, and 
speedily put down the joints to roast before the fire. 
The food put spirit once again into their hearts. 

At best it was a temporary expedient, for all the 
Gauchos could secure were ten or twelve lean animals 
a day, and that was little when distributed amongst 
six thousand men, all clamouring for food. The 
supply of cattle soon was exhausted, and no resource 
remained but to hunt the goats that had gone wild 
amongst the hills, and to dig underneath the ground 
for ‘‘as patatas do Vaqueiro,”* a root that has saved 


* See Introduction, p. 17. 


ee EE — — = 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 213 


life, in drought and famine, a thousand times in the 
Sertdo. 

Desertions soon became frequent, but ceased when 
it was known that those who escaped death by thirst 
and hunger on the road usually fell into the hands of 
the Jaguncos and were killed instantly. No news 
arrived of the provision train up to the middle of 
July, and the Commander of the expedition found 
himself forced either to retreat and face the perils of 
the march, and the disgrace that he was sure awaited 
him at home, or else establish communication with 
the train of mules that he knew must be by this time 
not far off upon the road. Asa last resource he got 
together such of his cavalry as had horses not too 
much exhausted for the march, and sent them back to 
serve as escort to the advancing mule trains, that he 
awaited with the same feelings as a shipwrecked 
sailor watching for a sail. 

On the 11th of July, when hope was almost dried 
up in their hearts, and the harassed General was just 
about to order a retreat, with the first streaks of day- 
light in the sky, a friendly Sertanejo rode into the 
camp. Behind him came three troopers mounted on 
horses, lame and travel-worn. ‘The countryman was 
the conveyer of a message from the officer in com- 
mand of the escort that accompanied the train. He 
had arrived at a day’s journey from the encampment, 
but feared to cross the danger zone with the small 
forces that he led. 

The Sertanejo looked at the starving men with 
wonder, as he sat like an equestrian statue on his 
horse, for, in the fashion of his countrymen, he would 


214. LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 


not alight without a special invitation, as to have done 
so would have been a breach of courtesy. Slowly he 
reined his horse back towards where the General and 
his officers stood waiting for him, making it rear and 
passage as he went. Taking his hat off, he drew the 
letter from it, and after handing it to the General, at 
a sign of welcome, swung himself in one motion from 
the saddle, and taking off his horse’s bridle, he sat 
down silently to smoke, with his eyes fixed on vacancy, 
but observing everything. 

Joy rang through the encampment, and when at 
last, next day at evening, long trains of mules laden 
with bread and flour, with rum, with sugar, coffee, and 
with jerked beef, filed slowly into the hunger-stricken 
camp, the soldiers’ spirits rose, and they demanded to 
be led to the attack. 

Next day they rested and refreshed themselves. 
The General held a council with his officers. Night 
fell upon the camp, amidst a clang of preparations, of 
songs, of horses neighing, and all the animation that 
takes hold of men in like positions, who know that 
it may be the last occasion when they will laugh and 
sing. 

Then, in the starry silence of the tropic night, the 
Ave Maria ascended from the town, and the long 
melopea of the litanies. 


CHAPTER XVII 


Ir was indeed time for the matter to be decided in 
one way or another. The concussion of the Govern- 
ment’s reverse had been felt to the remotest corner of 
Brazil. Canudos had become a household word. 
Right up in Amazonas; in the dark glades of Matto 
Grosso; on the frontiers of Guiana, the little village 
in the Sertao of Bahia was known to everyone. 

In Rio Grande do Sul, the sceptical and careless 
Gauchos talked of it at cattle-markings and at fairs, 
laughing and making game of both sides, after their 
usual way. The Government, they saw, was weak, and 
yet they did not give much credence to Antonio 
Conselheiro’s wonder-working powers. After the 
materialistic fashion of most dwellers upon plains 
where horses are plentiful, a piece of beef, a cup of 
mateé, a fine day, a handsome girl, or a good horse, 
engrossed their minds more than the possible destruc- 
tion of the world, foretold by the prophet of the 
Sertao. Such clergy as they had amongst them had 
to ride them on a light hand, or they would have 
revolted altogether from their control. In the same 
way the Bedouin Arabs of Arabia, living under con- 
ditions so similar to those of the Gauchos on the plains 
of South America, have always been refractory to 

215 


216 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


religious teaching, holding Islam but at the most a 
council of perfection, and living, even to-day, much as 
their forbears lived in the days when the seven poems 
of the Moalakat were written, and hung up for all 
men to admire. 

Mountains, with mist and ever-changing weather, 
streams, lakes and waterfalls with rainbows playing on 
them, great trees, and life circumscribed within more 
or less narrow limits by the valleys and the hills, drive 
men to introspection, and to a feeling of their own 
impotence, before the superior force of Nature. On 
the wide plains, man is his own star, and the horse 
places him more on a level with natural forces; not 
caring to scale a heaven that is not imminent, he is 
content to live his life, lord of the earth, and, in a 
greater measure than elsewhere, makes his own 
destiny. 

The dangerous feeling, half of amazement, half of 
ridicule, that had been excited by the defeats they had 
incurred, and by the long delay to which their 
relatively great fourth expedition had been subjected, 
stirred up the Government, and they sent messages to 
their Commander not to put off attack. 

Upon the other side, and notwithstanding that he 
must have known the end was certain, Antonio 
Conselheiro gave no sign of weakness, but set himself 
resolutely to meet the Government's assault. His past 
successes had so much increased his fame, that from 
the eternal forests and swamps of Matto Grosso, from 
those deep matted woods where giant trees spring up 
two hundred feet in height, and where the only way 
to penetrate the thickets is by following the streams, 





ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 217 


from every little clearing, recruits once more flocked 
to the Sertao. They came on donkeys and on mules, 
on bullocks and on foot, following the forest trails. 
For weeks they marched under a tangled vegetation, 
so thick that the sun’s rays had never penetrated to 
the ground. Humming birds darted to and fro in the 
rare clearings, like flakes of topaz or of amethyst. 
The pilgrims never heeded them, nor turned their 
heads, when now and then in passing over little plains 
flocks of macaws—green, red and yellow—soared 
past like falcons, uttering their hoarse cry. 

Great troops of monkeys gambolled in the woods, 
performing their aerial gymnastics as it were for the 
travellers’ amusement, swinging from tree totree. At 
night they raised their melancholy chorus, howling 
like foghorns, heard dimly through the folds of a sea 
mist. The men and women tramping along were no 
more moved with their nocturnal psalmody than with 
their feats upon the trees. With their minds fixed 
upon their Zion, Canudos, the mystic city where their 
prophet dwelt, for which they had sold all their poor 
possessions and set forth to see him and to touch his 
raiment, the misguided, but perhaps happy and con- 
tented, illuminated folk endured their misery upon 
the road. They passed by back-waters, carpeted over 
with the giant leaves of the Victoria Regia, upon 
whose banks were egrets, white as snow, standing 
immovable, with something sacred in their look, as 
they watched for the fish beneath the steaming waters 
of the lake. Across their path, now and then, bounded 
wild cats and jaguars, their spotted skins blending 
exactly with the prevailing plants and vegetation, so 


218 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


that in an instant they had become a part of it, and 
disappeared. From the tall tree tops amongst the 
purple, red, and multi-coloured flowers of the lianas, 
came the sloth’s melancholy cry. Tapirs and peccaries 
passed in full view of them, and in the streams they 
crossed, carpinchos* swam, their heads awash, looking 
like little hippopotami. Huge logs rolled lazily into 
the water, showing themselves to have been alligators. 
Deep in the recesses of the forests, came the sonorous 
notes of the bell-bird, which makes one think that 
somewhere there must be a chapel in the woods left 
by the Jesuits, or else its wraith, served by some 
phantom priest. All the bright wonders, and the 
dark melancholy of the tropic everglades, was unrolled 
before the eyes of these modern Israelites, plodding 
along towards their stony, burned-up Canaan, guided 
but by the fiery pillar each one carried in his heart. 

When they arrived before the reed-built, palm- 
thatched city they stopped and broke out into 
psalmody. All that they had endured was counted 
nothing, for now they could not err upon the path 
towards salvation, with Zion full in view. 

The rude Paulistas from their cattle farms round 
Surucaba, the miners from Goyaz, the gatherers of 
caoutchouc in the Amazonian forests, sent their con- 
tingents; and from all parts and portions of the mighty 
empire so many pilgrims came that they were forced 
to encamp, and build great villages of huts. 

‘See Rome and lose your faith,” the adage ran in 

* The Capybara of naturalists. ‘The largest known member of 


the rodent family. 
t “Roma veduta, fede perduta.” 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 219 


the old days, when the spiritual descendant of the 
Galilean fishermen used to dominate the world. 
Whether Canudos, ill-built and dirty, poor and 
miserable, with its sectarian life of sexual licence and 
eternal psalmody, had a like effect upon the pilgrims, 
is known tono man. After the catastrophe, most of 
them disappeared again into the forest trails from 
which they had emerged, and by degrees regained 
their homes, leaving as little traces of their passage as 
does a flight of flying fish after its brief excursion 
into air. 

Within the town, the spiritual life daily became more 
highly keyed up, and still more intense. The prophet 
passed the day in preparations for defence ; the night 
in prayer and preaching, and all the sectaries under his 
ministrations prepared themselves to die. As often 
happens in like circumstances, either in times of 
pestilence or siege, the people all abandoned themselves 
to sexual excesses, only to be paralleled amongst their 
prototypes in Phrygia and in Cilicia, when the con- 
tending Orthodox and Gnostic sects strove for the 
mastery. ‘¢God’s people ever were a backsliding 
folk,” ran the old Scottish saying, and the same proved 
true in the Sertéo. This did not stop them from 
laying plans for their defence with judgment and with 
skill. Thus fortified, both by their trenches and 
their faith, they stood at bay, awaiting the last move 
of the Government. 

They had not long to wait, for on the 18th of 
July, after his troops had rested and reinforcements 
had come up, General Arthur Oscar gave the signal 
for attack. For the last day or two the artillery had 


220 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


rained shells upon the town, but their effect was 
inconsiderable. Either the artillerymen were not 
trained to their task, or the fragile nature of the houses 
of the town allowed the projectiles to pass through 
them like paper, without exploding, or for some other 
cause, the bombardment failed of its result. Nothing 
was left but an assault in force, and this was fixed for 
the 18th of July. As usual, the spirits of the troops 
ran high. All were most anxious to be led to the 
attack, and once again they fell into the trap of over- 
confidence. It seemed impossible that six thousand 
well-armed men, furnished with ample ammunition 
and artillery, should not at once possess themselves of 
a miserable town of shanties, defended by men void 
of discipline. Civilised and disciplined soldiers are 
always at their worst and weakest in wild countries. 
All is unfamiliar to them. They see no houses, 
churches, cows, or sheep and horses grazing ; there 
are no hedges, ditches, railway embankments, or any 
of the familiar features of a European landscape. 
Distances are always greater than those they have been 
used to in their homes. The atmosphere is puzzling, 
crows appear bullocks, bullocks crows, in the clear air. 
A range of hills that looks a few miles distant may 
prove a long day’s journey off. Insensibly, the con- 
fidence of the training camp is undermined, for the 
enemy they have been taught to expect under condi- 
tions not unlike their own is never visible, and on 
the rare occasions when he shows himself seems like 
a phantom of the night. Then, when the troops 
begin to think he is contemptible, and that their 
task will prove a military promenade, a feeling that 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 221 


invariably overtakes disciplined, well-armed men in 
such surroundings, without a moment’s warning, out of 
nothing as it were, up from the long grass, behind a 
line of stones, or from the reeds upon a river’s bank, 
the long-sought enemy appears, and in an instant 
inflicts considerable loss. | Fury possesses every heart, 
that men they had despised could prove so formidable, 
and fury turns to impotency when the troops find, 
encumbered as they are with all the lumber of a 
European regiment, that all pursuit is vain. 

Such warfare tries the best of troops to the utmost, 
as we found in South Africa, and as the French found 
in the Soudan. In the Sertao it was intensified, 
for the men the army was opposed to were their 
own countrymen. The soldiers passed the night in 
celebrating the expected victory. At daybreak they 
moved to the attack, advancing bravely under the fire 
of their artillery and entering the town. As upon 
former instances, not a shot was fired by the Jagun¢os 
until the soldiers were well engaged amongst the 
streets, and the artillery was obliged to cease its fire, 
for fear of killing their own soldiers with the enemy. 
When the long columns of the troops had entered the 
tortuous lanes of huts, the fire of the Jagungos broke 
out upon them. This time the sectaries were better 
armed—with the rifles and the ammunition they had 
taken from the former expeditions—and the troops, 
huddled up amongst the lanes, soon suffered terribly. 
Men fell on all sides, but the attack was well sustained, 
and did not lose its energy till it had carried a little 
eminence that looked down on the interior of the 
town. Had there been forces in sufficient numbers to 


222 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


advance, well officered and led, the fate of Canudos 
would shortly have been sealed ; but nearly all the 
officers had fallen, and the attacking column was 
completely isolated. ‘The General rushed up rein- 
forcements, and the position was assured; but the 
troops who had fought bravely all through the day 
were thoroughly worn out. 

Camped on the eminence that they had conquered, 
but unable to go on, the new encampment found 
itself isolated, with its advance into the town rendered 
impossible, and its communications with the base 
dangerous and difficult. The night passed unmolested, 
and they employed it in digging trenches and in 
strengthening the hill. When morning broke they 
were surrounded by the enemy, and from the huts 
issued a swarm of women and girls, all armed with 
hatchets and with knives, butchering the wounded as 
they lay helpless on the ground. Three times the 
General-in-Chief rushed reinforcements up to them, 
only to see them beaten back again. Then, getting 
off his horse, he headed the fourth charge in person, 
advancing bravely through a storm of bullets, till he 
reached the eminence. After a council, he determined 
to hold on at any cost, and to take the town, street 
after street, or house by house, if it proved necessary. 

Dreams of a swift triumph now had vanished, and all 
the officers perceived that it would take a siege 
extending over months to make an end of it. A 
thousand casualties in the last operation had consider- 
ably reduced his forces, and the General, though much 
against his will, was forced to ask for reinforcements 
once again for his depleted ranks. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 223 
The next few days passed quietly, for on both sides 


the casualties had been enormous, so for the moment 
the days were passed in skirmishing, in which the 
troops lost heavily in their exposed positions ; and the 
enemy, if he lost many men, was always able to 
conceal his losses and carry off his dead. 

All day the noise of firing went on ceaselessly, and 
then at nightfall, whilst the troops sat silent round 
their fires, the sound of litanies was wafted from the 
town, as if the inhabitants looked on the fighting as a 
mere incident, and when the darkness fell upon their 
town, turned to reality. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


Wuitst General Arthur Oscar waited for reinforce- 
ments after having sent his wounded back to the rail- 
head, a journey that they had to do on foot, on 
mules, in bullock carts, almost without provisions and 
exposed to sun and rain, the partisans of Antonio Con- 
selheiro grew more daring every day. Not content 
with blockading the advanced section of their in- 
vaders closely in their camp, they raided all the 
country for miles on every side. They took the town 
of Viela de Santa Anna and sacked it utterly, and 
wasted the whole district of Mirandella, burning the 
houses and carrying the cattle off from all the farms. 
With their instinctive eye for strategical position they 
fortified a post upon the hills near Varzea da Ema, 
and another at Caypan. As these points dominated 
the chief road from Monte Santo, all the trains of 
ammunition and of provisions coming to the camp 
were constantly attacked. Nothing could pass along 
the road without an escort, and even then mule train 
and escort were often beaten back and forced to wait 
for reinforcements on the way. 

Under the impulse of fanaticism, with a contempt 
of death equal to that shown by the tribes of the 


Soudan, old Macambira’s son, with ten or twelve 
224 


EE 


LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 225 


companions, planned to carry off the big gun, which, 
now that it had been put into working order, did 
great execution on the town. Creeping like snakes 
through the long grass and using every artifice of 
frontier warfare to conceal their progress, they crawled 
into the camp. The men were sleeping, and the 
sentinels did not perceive them, till they rose silently, 
like phantoms, close beside the gun. If heroism be 
a contempt of death, the devoted twelve who followed 
Macambira were heroes verily, for death was certain 
in their enterprise. 

Hardly had=the gun begun to move under their 
united efforts than the alarm was raised. Alone 
amongst six thousand men, they all fell dead around 
their prize, except one man, who in a hail of bullets, 
brandishing his knife as he ran, leaping from side 
to side, reached some bushes into which he dis- 
appeared, just as a fish is lost to view after it leaps 
and falls back in the stream. 

Troops were converging on Canudos from every 
point of the republic of Brazil. So serious did the 
situation seem to Ministers that they sent their Secre- 
tary of State for War, Marshal de Bittencourt, to take 
the chief command. This officer was cast in a different 
mould from all his predecessors. Cold, calculating, 
and never to be moved from the goal he had in view, 
his first care was to collect an overwhelming force. 

In a short time nearly ten thousand men, with a 
whole park of artillery, were brought together, and 
converged upon the place. Marshal de Bittencourt 
had no idea of leaving anything to chance, nor did he 
suffer from the over-confidence into which the other 

15 


226 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 
generals had fallen. By the middle of September all 


was ready at the railhead for an advance in force. 

The short season of the summer was over, and 
already the Sertéo was putting on an aspect ot 
drought and of aridity, with scarcity of pasture, 
long days of heat and nights of frost—a season most 
unfavourable to troops, but advantageous to the last 
degree to the Jaguncos, to whom the weather, heat, 
cold, thirst, or hunger were indifferent. 

Moreover, the position in General Arthur Oscar’s 
camp was most precarious. Inaction, with the scarcity 
of food, had brought on frequent desertions, and the 
deserters, who dared not face the perils of the road, 
remained in bands, hanging about the woods and 
issuing forth, when they were strong enough, to 
attack provision trains. 

The Jagungos, who seemed to have ample supplies 
of ammunition, perpetually attacked the camp and 
cut off stragglers, and day by day, by hunger, battle, 
and disease, the General’s forces dwindled until all 
that he could do was to remain on the defensive in 
his camp—to such a pass had the Jaguncos, helped 
by their climate and the want of roads, reduced a 
force of full six thousand soldiers, armed and disci- 
plined, and backed by modern guns. The monstrous, 
incompleted temple, that the fire of the artillery had 
failed to batter down, still dominated the camp of the 
besieging force. The Jagung¢os had erected crows’ nests 
on it, from which they spied each movement in the 
camp, and from its highest points sharp-shooters were 


ensconced, that could not be dislodged by the artillery 
fire. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO a7 


Inside the town enthusiasm ran high. The ignorant 
Jaguncos had no idea of the strength of the two con- 
tending parties, and even if they had, looked to a 
miracle from their good Councillor that would redeem 
their town. What men such as were Pajehu and 
Macambira, Joao Abade, and the rest of the guerilla 
leaders thought, no one can tell, but it may be such 
worldly wisdom as they had was swallowed up in the 
general wave of superstition prevailing in the town. 
None of them faltered, and not one of them attempted 
to escape what they must all have known was the 
impending doom, but fought on faithfully, giving 
their lives as cheerfully as did the rudest and most 
uneducated. 

No prisoners had been taken, for the Jagun¢os gave 
no quarter, and on their own side carried off all their 
wounded, so that neither party had the least knowledge 
of its opponent’s mind. So serious the situation had 
become by the end of September that, had not Marshal 
de Bittencourt been already on the road, the fourth 
expedition would have been forced to straggle back to 
Monte Santo after the fashion of its predecessors. 
General Barbosa, the second in command, had been 
dangerously wounded, right in the middle of the 
camp, and every regiment was depleted by a third of 
its full strength by desertion and disease, and by the 
losses of the fight. The Marshal’s force was now 
upon the road, advancing steadily, as if it had been in 
a foreign country rather than in Brazil, with scouts 
thrown out on every side, and searching all the bushes 
with artillery. 

When it arrived it found the troops of General 


228 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Arthur Oscar almost at the last gasp for want of 
food and every necessary. A day or two put all in 
order, and with ten thousand men, provisions, guns, 
ammunition, and reinforcements pouring in from 
every side, the fate of the Jagunco Zion was settled, 
although it still held out. As time passed by, little 
by little the troops advanced, inexorably destroying 
all the houses as they went, so as not to leave defences 
in the rear. For the first time some prisoners were 
taken; but they turned out to be composed of women, 
of children, and old men past fighting, who had left 
the town, pushed by the want of food. As they filed 
past the soldiers, a thrill of pity ran through the ranks, 
for the prisoners seemed a band of living skeletons. 
Throughout the past three months of fighting they 
had starved, and now could hardly drag themselves 
along. Women who had been fierce viragoes tottered 
on their feet, leaning on sticks, and miserable mothers 
pressed their starving infants to their dried up breasts, 
as they passed like a drove of phantoms through the 
camp. Three or four boys, of ten or twelve years of age, 
wounded and black with powder—for they had fought 
beside their fathers—drew themselves up, and tried to 
swagger as they saw the soldiers looking at them. 
The spectral procession gave an indication of what 
was passing in the town. 

Still it gave not a sign or weakness, and every 
evening the sound of litanies and hymns floated up to 
the camp, where round the fires, for the first time, the 
soldiers, amply fed and cared for, listened with feel- 
ings of amazement to the psalmody that rose from 
the doomed town. 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 229 


September opened disastrously for the besieged. 
At the beginning of the month Pajehu fell, pierced by 
a chance shot. His death deprived the sectaries of 
their most energetic leader, and the command devolved 
on Macambira and Joao Abade, who carried on the 
fight to the best of their ability, but with less genius 
for guerilla warfare than Pajehu had shown. Early 
in the month the two half-finished towers of the 
great church were battered down, depriving the 
besieged of their best observation posts, for they had 
towered above the camp. 

Antonio Conselheiro, who had rarely left the towers 
for weeks, except when he came down to animate his 
followers, was nearly overwhelmed in the fall of the 
towers, but once again escaped. His escape was set 
down to a miracle, and his brave, if misguided, 
followers still determined to hold out. Inside the 
town the battle was continuous, for the trenches ran 
under the houses like a rabbit warren, and when a 
group of huts had been destroyed, the troops who 
thought themselves secure found they were exposed 
to a hot fire from men well hidden underground, and 
sheltered from attack. 

On neither side was quarter given, and the troops 
instantly cut the throats or ripped the bellies up of 
every prisoner, knowing the one thing the Jagun¢os 
feared was death by steel, thinking it deprived them 
of salvation—a superstition never yet explained. Thus 
when the soldiers took a prisoner they asked him 
generally, ‘‘ How do you want to die ?” 

The Jagun¢gos always answered, “ By a rifle shot.” 
Then with a savage laugh the soldiers’ answer was, 


230 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


“It shall be by cold steel,” and plunged his knife into 
his throat, bending the head back as a butcher treats 
a sheep. 

Each lane and every house had to be taken separ- 
ately, and women, children, and old men fought by 
the side of the Jaguncos, giving their lives as cheer- 
fully as the most robust of the young. Terrible 
combats took place underground in the rough trenches 
and in the huts, into which the inhabitants inveigled 
soldiers, by counterfeiting death and then attacking 
them. Whichever side carried the day in these 
encounters, the fate of those defeated was assured, and 
the long “‘jacaré”’ of the Jaguncos, or the sword- 
bayonet of the troops, was the sole arbiter. 

To all the propositions of surrender made by the 
Marshal no answer was returned. The prisoners 
refused to answer questions as to the condition of the 
town, even to save their lives. After refusal they were 
slain inexorably ; but young and old alike refused 
their lives, saying they wished to follow their good 
Councillor to heaven, of which they were assured. 

Once more the besiegers tried a general assault, 
furious to be delayed too long by such a miserable 
place. It failed completely, under the terrific fire 
that burst upon it from huts and trenches, churches, 
and from the four Krupp guns, lost by the former 
expedition, after its defeat. Furious, the Marshal led 
his forces back again, and once again sat down to draw 
the investment tighter and to prevent provisions from 
arriving at the town. 

One gate of safety still remained to the stubborn 
sectaries. The roads towards Varzea da Ema and 





ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 231 


Uaua still were open to them. Provisions still came 
in occasionally, and a supply of ammunition reached 
them, sent by traders on the coast, following the 
forest trails. By these, the population could have 
escaped to the interior, or at the least the leaders and 
the able-bodied men. Behind them was immunity, for 
the Government could not have followed them into 
the trackless wilds of Matto Grosso. Behind them 
lay relief from hunger, safety from danger, and the 
possibility of founding a new Zion remote from inter- 
ference, where they could have lived and looked for 
the coming of the King, Don Sebastian, and followed 
their peculiar doctrines in peace. So hard the 
Government was pushed, even with the larger forces 
under Marshal Bittencourt, that probably they would 
have been willing to come to a composition of some 
sort or other with Antonio Conselheiro, had he but 
made a sign. Neither he nor his stubborn followers 
gave the sign, and what is more remarkable, none of 
the bandits, thieves, or broken men who could not be 
supposed to have joined him for religious motives, 
ever thought of an escape. Provisions for a time 
came in by the two open roads, and a few old men 
and women with their children disappeared along 
them, into the forest wilds. 

By the middle of September, Marshal Bittencourt 
advanced and occupied both roads. Then he sent 
in to see if Antonio Conselheiro would surrender, 
being well aware that there was still hard work before 
him if he should have to reduce the place by force, 
No answer was returned to any of his messages, and 
the agony of the Jagungo Zion entered its last phase, 


232 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


Once more the fighting recommenced. The troops 
advanced, enduring heavy losses, but always gaining 
ground. Men fought to the last gasp, in trenches, in 
the dark lanes and winding passages. None asked for 
quarter, and if a prisoner was taken on either side, he 
was straightway butchered like a sheep. The 
wounded were slaughtered as they lay, by starving 
women who crept out under fire to drive a knife into 
the victim’s heart, content to be shot down, so that, 
as some of them exclaimed, “I have dispatched a dog 
before me, to prepare the way.” ‘The month crept 
on, and still Canudos fought with the courage of 
despair. At last the walls of the great church were 
battered down, depriving the Jagun¢os of their battery, 
for on the church the captured guns had been 
set up. 

The inhabitants, with true Indian stoicism, hungry 
and desperate, and with ammunition running short, 
kept on the unequal combat, fighting as desperately 
as upon the first day they were attacked. Nothing 
compelled them, for neither Antonio Conselheiro nor 
his leaders had any special bodies of armed men on 
whom they could rely, nor, given the character of the 
Brazilian, they probably would not have applied com- 
pulsion if they had had the power. 
| Hunger began to do its work, and night by night 
‘miserable bands of women, their heads enveloped in 
their white blankets, crept into the besiegers’ camp to 
seek a little food. They said no word, they made no 
prayer ; but sitting down upon the ground with their 
heads covered, patiently waited for whatever fate they 
had to bear. Their appearance sent a thrill of pity 


7 
ee ee 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 25% 


through the troops, who shared their rations with 
them, and then advanced to the attack. 

One by one, all the chief leaders disappeared, slain 
in the trenches, butchered in the lanes, or dead of 
hunger and of thirst. Last of all, on the 22nd of 
the month, Antonio Conselheiro died. 

As he had seen his hopes all vanish one by one—the 
great, new town which was to be the centre of the 
kingdom of Don Sebastian battered to pieces and the 
walls levelled with the ground, the towers fallen down, 
the sacred image of the Good Jesus blown to pieces 
by a shell, his people starving and every hope 
deceived—he fell into despair. Wrapping himself in 
silence, he refused all food, passed all the day in 
prayer in an angle of the ruined church before an 
image of a saint, and stalked about the streets occasion- 
ally, a living skeleton shrouded in mutism. 

One day, after he had been missed for several hours, 
Antonio Beatinho, his inseparable friend and devotee, 
found him face downwards on the ground, dead and 
already cold, clasping a silver crucifix against his 
breast, within the ruined church. His face was 
calm, his body almost mere skin and bones, worn 
out with fasting and with the death of his illusions, 
but: his soul unconquerable. 


CHAPTER XIx 


ANToNIo CoNSELHEIRO’s death had the effect of 
rendering his followers still more desperate and deter- 
mined to hold out. A legend soon gained ground, 
that as he saw his chief adherents and the best part 
of all his fighting men slain by the enemy, he had 
determined to accompany them as an ambassador to 
God. He had died, they said, to expiate their crimes, 
and now was sitting at the right hand of God, direct- 
ing the defence. Soon, it was rumoured, he would 
return in glory, accompanied by the King, Don 
Sebastian, and with an escort of angels and arch- 
angels, all armed with flaming swords, to fight with 
Anti-Christ. 

All hearts were lightened, and in spite of hunger 
and of thirst the decimated sectaries fought on 
stubbornly. A few deserted, and thus saved 
themselves, seeking a refuge in the impenetrable 
forests, after the hue and cry was over returning to 
their houses, where some of them possibly still are 
living, waiting for the millennium and for the prophet’s 
second coming upon earth. Let them live on, and 
watch the humming-birds as they hang poised above 
the flowers, the lizards basking in the sun, listen to 

234 


LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO = 235 


the mysterious noises that at night in the tropics rise 
from the woods, inhale the scent of the dank vegeta- 
tion, and till their crops of mandioca and of maize. 
That is the true millennium, did they but know it, and 
each man makes or mars it for himself, as long as 
health gives him the power to drink it in, and to 
enjoy. 

These were the last to escape from the impending 
doom, for in October the investment lines were drawn 
so strictly that not a mouse could issue from the town. 
From that time the doom of the besieged was sealed, 
and their destruction certain, if they continued to 
resist. It would have been good policy to have pro- 
claimed an amnesty, for as Antonio Conselheiro and 
their other leaders all were dead, the people would 
have gone back to their homes had they but only 
been assured of safety for their lives. Few 
Governments are much disposed either to pity or to 
common sense, and the Brazilians were no exception to 
the rule that seems to make republics and monarchies 
alike hating and hateful to mankind. 

So once again the struggle was begun, with varying 
fortunes all through October, and bitterness pushed to 
the verge of madness upon both sides reigned indis- 
criminately. Prisoners were taken and dragged before 
the General, interrogated, wrapped themselves up in 
silence, or defied him, and in both cases by a motion 
of the hand were sent out to their death. 

Not one of them faltered or weakened for a mo- 
ment, some of them feeling the edges of the knives 
that were next moment to be plunged into their 


236 LIFE AND MIRACLES OF 


throats, with a defiant smile. The troops grew weary 
of the butchery, but there was no respite, and to all 
offers of surrender no answer was returned. 

Water began to fail, and the besieged Jagun¢os 
suffered terribly from thirst. To get at water for 
their comrades and their wives, some performed pro- 
digious acts of bravery, creeping out under fire to fill 
a miserable skin or gourd, at the utmost hazard of 
their lives. 

As each successive group of huts was taken and 
destroyed, the next resisted still more stubbornly, 
taking a heavy toll of killed and wounded from the 
soldiery. At times, the hunger-driven people, collect- 
ing all the men fit to bear arms, charged desperately 
upon the troops, amongst whose files a feeling of 
commiseration grew for their mad valour and their 
contempt of death. All night the artillery played 
upon the town, lighting it up as the shells set the 
miserable huts afire, and battering down such portions 
of the church as still were standing, destroying the last 
points of vantage for the sharp-shooters. 

Nothing could break the resolution of the fast dis- 
appearing sectaries, and when the roaring of the guns 
was stilled, the long-drawn notes of psalms were 
wafted through the night, but now more fitfully, like 
the lost souls in purgatory, raising a cry for help. 

To the repeated messages sent by the Marshal for 
surrender still no answer was returned, even an offer 
of an armistice was only used by the Jagungos to send 
out a crowd of starving women, who, headed by 
Antonio Beatinho, defiled like phantoms through the 


ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 237 


camp, victims for months of hunger and thirst. The 
fighting men retired still deeper into the dark recesses 
of the lanes, and kept up a hot fire upon the troops 
with their last cartridges. 

Days passed, days which must have been weeks to 
the pent-up defenders of the town, cooped in their 
trenches and their rifle-pits. Throughout October 
the miserable butchery dragged on, until at last, on 
the 5th of November, 1897, all was as silent as the 
grave. No shots were fired from the smoking heaps 
of ruins, and not a hymn was raised by the Jaguncos 
to their lost Councillor. The soldiers, fearing an 
ambuscade, advanced, passing by trenches filled to the 
top with dead, and through the lanes, strewn thick 
with corpses lying as they fell, some at the door of 
their own huts, and others with their faces in the 
mud-holes towards which they had crept to seek 
a little water in their agony. 

All the Jagun¢os had joined their Councillor. From 
the last trench the soldiers received the fire of the few 
last defenders of Canudos, faithful to the death. Two 
boys, one able-bodied man, and an old veteran, still 
fought on until a volley from the soldiers laid them at 
rest, their faces turned towards the foe. 

Under a covering of earth, ina grave, shallow, and 
dug in haste, the conquerers, after a search, came on 
the body of Antonio Conselheiro. Dressed in his long, 
blue tunic, his hands crossed piously, clasping a cruci- 
fix against his breast, he lay, waiting the coming of 
the King, that Don Sebastian who he believed should 
come to rule the world in glory, blot out injustice, 


238 LIFE OF ANTONIO CONSELHEIRO 


cast down the mighty, and exalt the poor in spirit, 
giving them the world as their inheritance. 

Some of the faithful had placed some withered 
flowers upon his breast. His body lay upon a 


ragged piece of matting, and both his eyes were 
full of sand. | 


BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD, ENGLAND: 





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